take this poll:

waldorf or a more traditional preschool, people?

many of you know, i am traditionally not of the traditional variety, so this decision is hard for me.

here's the deal: the traditional preschool is in a convenient location with an utterly exemplary, fairly reknown teacher. (i have mentioned her name a couple times in public, and other people have said things like, "teacher nikki? my son will love that woman until the day he dies. it's 3 years later and he still talks about her," or "teacher nikki? she will make a remarkable first impression on your child. she is world's most fantastic preschool teacher," etc, etc.) you get the point. i have also personally seen this teacher nikki lady a half dozen times at the library, hand-picking out library books for her students, because she bases the curriculum around their interests. she's an all around great gal and wins extra points for biking to work and naming her preschool a gay name like "rainbow." the downsides are that they serve juice, and there's kind of a lot of kids there, and they probably know the names of disney characters, to which adah might respond, "who the fuck is that?" she might be considered a little bit of a weirdo.

i know, this is the most trite thing i've ever read, too. but i can't help it.

the waldorf school, on the other hand, will most likely be filled with other children who are equally oblivious to the TV/commercial world, and would come to school with BPA-free lunch boxes saturated with whole grains and a blueberry for dessert if they're lucky. adah would drink filtered water and run around like a fairy every day, never learning a literacy or math concept until she was 14, because she'd be busy being playful and creative and imaginative. she would also learn how to felt raw sheep's wool, watercolor in natural hues, investigate a worm bin on a living room floor, and be able to teach me how to sew by the time she's four.

how am i supposed to know what's best? each choice leads to such extremes. what if she comes home one day asking for a capri sun? and on the other hand, what if she comes home one day and declares that she's built a hut out of acorns in the forest and she'd like to live there starting tomorrow?

caution: boring post to help remind me 30 years from now what i did on this particular weekend

our house is freezing and i'm sitting next to the open oven enjoying its leftover warmth as the ginger cookies (with added orange rind! why didn't i think of this earlier?) are cooling on the counter. i am on some kind of cookie baking spree.

it's been a fun weekend. one that made me happy to live in a city, which is kind of rare.

i had the house to myself most of friday night. chelsea and ezra were havin' a sleepover elsewhere, and anne was out with friends. i went to bed hours earlier than 98.9% of all the other 31 year olds i know, with a bowl of maple syrup and walnut oatmeal, a pile of books, and my cat. can this get any more dorky or comforting? i think not.

saturday began with crepes and a preschool visit ("i LIKE it here!" said kid), and then we headed downtown to a fantastic delicatessen to meet my high school drama/media teacher who i recently reconnected with through facebook. it was pure lovely to see her, and we got to ponder how it is that after all these years, and an age gap between us, we are seemingly the same age now. this made my day. then anne, adah, and i headed to powell's for some books in laps, over to cacao, for some fine drinking chocolate, and then to sheryl and elizabeth's for dinner. when we got there, anne and i had a nap emergency, and sheryl and her dog were nice enough to play with adah while we curled up into balls on the couch for a 15-20 minute respite when we were not playing doctor with a doll or stuffed animal, or reminding adah that saying the words "excuse me!" does not mean that she gets to barge right into a conversation automatically. she begins talking from the moment she wakes up, and sometimes anne and i have to literally run into another room to get a word in with each other, followed by adah yelling, "EXCUSE ME!" it's really funny, but only the first 37 times.

i'm boring myself to death here, but to get on with it, anne and i got a second wind after getting adah back home, and actually got kind of dressed up and went on a date-like thing with some rowdy dancing catholics. met some nice folks and had a great time.

sunday was haircut day in grandma's kitchen and by 1:30 we were grateful for the fact that adah has three loving grandmas in town (i recommend lesbian grandmas for all) because we were tired again, and in need of another nap since we have only had about two or three naps a piece for the past few years, and two of them happened this weekend. grandma bonnie just got back from her inauguration trip and said, "yes, of course! drop her off!" so we did. they immediately baked something with contraband (sugar) and anne and i slept in these new so-soft-you-never-want-to-leave-them sheets we got for valentine's day a month early. it felt so good to have my cells blessed with sleep...

and on that note, good night!

memory, anyone?

find the matches.

honey, what am i gonna do with you?

i mean this in the nicest way.

the great paradox of parenting is that one moment you are in absolute love, and are reveling in the sweet joy of it all, and the next minute you are on the verge of checking yourself into an insane asylum. one minute you're trying to get your kid to walk the one block home from a friend's house, but because she wants a snack before she leaves and didn't get one since a.) she just had one and b.) anne had dinner waiting on the table, you have to acquire actual bruises on your shins from all the flailing caused by the world's most explosive tantrum.

AND THEN, 10 minutes later, you get to experience the strange sensation of your heart melting a little when the kid curiously walks up to you with astounding emotional amnesia, and asks with all sincerity, while staring intently at your hands, "mama, where did you get those knuckles?" or she discovers a clever re-use for a piece of folded cardboard and becomes determined to write a book called, "glitter, oh glitter, inside the bathrobe" and wants to read it to you right away... what's a girl to do?

i guess i'll start by un-channeling salinger so i can take a breath. and then i'll eat more cookies.