My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Go Back, Jack, And Do It Again

Happy Halloween!

There is much to tell but sadly, I am under deadline so I'll have to make it brief and fill in the details later.

Tonight we are heading into the city for some serious trick-or-treating. Dusty is Cinderella this year, much to my private dismay. I had hoped for another Generic Princess or, at the very most, Barbie Fairy, but no. It had to one of the Disney Princess Mob who steal all the thunder from the more elegant and interesting Other Princesses. Alas! I have kept my opinions to myself and let Dusty do her thing. Red will be a lion. I found the most adorable lion jacket thing at Big Lots (a store I find dreadful and depressing but it was next to the grocery store so I went in) and Red's little face, surrounded by the fuzzy lion mane fur on the hood was so round and happy and cherubic, I just couldn't resist getting it. Red prefers to hug it than wear it but perhaps as she accompanies us on the candy-procuring rounds tonight (of which she will not partake; I have a firm No Candy Until Three Years Old policy), she'll forget she's got it on.

At Red's center they are having a costume parade. Wish I could see it but work interferes. Dusty's preschool is having a party in full costume, of course. There will be treats and sugar and sugar and sugar. And, the parents were asked to not only bring in treats for all the children BUT food for the party. In protest, I brought in little boxes of raisins for the treat bags (yes, I'm THAT lady). It's not that I'm against candy, per se. But I just know that there's going to be so much of already, there's no need for me to add to it. Dusty actually likes raisins and loves the little boxes. So there. For the party, because I knew everyone else would be bringing in cupcakes and cookies and loads of other crap to be eaten prior to lunch, I sent Dusty to school with our contribution: a bag of grapes and a bag of baby carrots. Somebody's got to be the adult here.

The biggest news is that my disenchantment with Dusty's preschool has grown so large that we've decided to place her elsewhere. So, she will soon be going to the same center that Red attends. Dusty will be able to use her brain and her creativity again, she'll be able to swing and swim (the center has a pool and offers swimming lessons) and take ballet/tap classes in the spring. She won't be forced to watch movies during naptime (!!!) and all afternoon. And, she won't be spanked on her birthday. This last piece of information was learned just the other day and has been worrying her. She's afraid she'll cry if she gets her "birthday spanking." Can you imagine? What the fuck are these people thinking?

So, more to follow. Most likely in the form of a rant against this current preschool and its non-developmentally appropriate practices. The final straw came when I received the November calendar with attachments that spelled out what was expected of every family for the Thanksgiving Feast (which is held on a Tuesday, during work hours):

1. I am to provide a main dish AND a side dish.
2. I am to pay $5 to help off-set the rental fee for wherever this "feast" is being held.
3. I am to send my child to school with a large bag of stuffing mix because the children are making stuffing, pies, etc. Sounds like unpaid child labor to me, rather than a lesson in cooking.
4. I am to pick up my child at 10:30 on the morning of the "feast" and drive her to the center, have lunch, and then drive her back. Nevermind that I WORK and cannot guarantee that I can even make the lunch (though I would love to have lunch with Dusty) much less drive her all over creation so that I am away from the office for at least 2.5 hours in the middle of the day. What if I can't make it? Would Dusty be left alone? Would someone else drive her there and back? What the fucking hell? What is my tuition money going toward anyway?

In contrast, the new place provides morning snack, lunch, and afternoon snack for the children for just about the same cost (I provide only soy milk and a vegetarian protein alternative). Their thanksgiving luncheon is provided by the center and parents are invited for the whole half an hour that it lasts. THAT is a doable plan. Thank god for reasonableness. It's not that I don't want to spend time with Dusty; not at all. It's just the presumption that I can drop everything (and my husband teaches in the city and would not be able to cancel classes so close to exam time in order to do this either), provide more food than I would for my own family thanksgiving dinner (I'm Pie Lady), and crack open the wallet yet again, that irks the ever-living shit out of me.

Did I say I was going to be brief? Yeah, I'll try to work on that. As you were. Over and out!


12:07 p.m. ::
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