Via MUBAR and Postcards from the Mothership, I learned that I was included in a roundup of mommy blogs in the Ottawa Citizen. They picked one post from a different blog for each day in February. They picked my entry for February 23. It’s sort of cool to be included with a bunch of "big name" bloggers, even if they decided my name was "DC Mom."
While I wrote about the preschool application process yesterday, these days I spend more time trying to figure out what we’re going to do about elementary school in a year and a half.
As I’ve written before, we’re probably going to start out by sending D to the local public elementary school, which is exactly 2 blocks from our front door. I’m a big believer in public schools, and it would make our life immeasurably easier to send the boys to a school that’s so close, but this is still not an easy decision. Even though we live in a pretty affluent area, this elementary school serves an overwhelmingly low-income population — about 85 percent of the kids qualify for free lunches*. Free, not free or reduced price. As is the case with most schools serving low-income kids, the test scores have been atrocious. So I worry about teaching to the test, I worry about whether D (who is already starting to read) is going to be bored, and I worry about whether there’s going to be peer culture that says its uncool to be good in school. I also don’t like to think about the arguments we’re going to have when many of his classmates’ parents allow them to roam around the neighborhood without adult supervision at what I think is absurdly young ages.
But I like the new principal and I’m impressed by the teachers I’ve met. We went to the open house a couple of weeks ago, and we practically had to carry D home because he didn’t want to stop exploring the classrooms. The kindergarden classes only had 13 kids per class this year (with a teacher and an aide), which is a big plus. And they’re talking about trying out multi-grade classrooms for the K-2 students to allow for more individualization of the curriculum. So I think we’re going to give it a try. But I second-guess myself on this all the time.
Bitch PhD wrote an interesting post yesterday about the life lessons she learned from attending academically mediocre inner-city schools:
"I learned how to be comfortable with people from the wrong side of the tracks, to think critically about race and class and how they play out in subtle ways, and that there is a really major difference between intelligence and privilege, though the two are usually confused."
Those are lessons that I’d like my kids to learn, but not at the cost of academic skills. Dr. B argues that she got those at home regardless. I think that’s probably true of most of what kids learn in elementary school, but I’m not convinced it’s the case in the upper grades.
Toronto Mama has also been worrying about schools, and she points out that the safety issue can be the trump card when looking at urban schools: "I do not want my babies to be afraid to go to school." Fortunately, I don’t think that’s an issue here.
* The houses here are small, and the upper-income residents typically don’t have kids, or move further into the suburbs before their kids hit school age. And many of those who do have school-age kids send them to either private school or the "traditional" magnet school.
I’ve read some interesting posts recently about the process of applying and choosing preschools. Moxie wrote about the preschool interview process in New York City — and she swears that this is the low-key version. Yikes. Toronto Mama wrote about the preschool they didn’t get into — and the one they did. Julia is having second thoughts about her choice of preschools.
We actually had a pretty sane preschool application experience by contrast. We didn’t apply to any of the schools that have people lining up at 4 am to turn in their applications, in part because we weren’t clued in enough to know that we had to line up to have a shot at getting in. The preschool that was our first choice — because we liked it, and because it was walking distance from our house — turned out to have exactly ONE slot open that year for kids who weren’t siblings of current students or children of alumni. Of course, no one mentioned this to us until after we had already given them our $75 application fee.
As it turns out, the preschool D attends didn’t even have a waiting list. I think that’s because it’s a Jewish preschool and many non-Jews don’t even consider it an option. We’re very happy with it. D looks forward to going to school, has lots of friends, and is learning to sit quietly when it’s appropriate and take turns and things like that. That’s all we were really looking for. At the parent "orientation night" they gave us a big speech about why they have a "play-based curriculum" and recommended Einstein Didn’t Use Flash Cards. I didn’t need to be convinced.
That said, someone posted to the DC Urban Moms email list a few weeks back on the verge of hysterics because she had been waitlisted at every single preschool she had applied to. A lot depends on geography around here — traffic is so miserable around here that you really need to stick to places right near your home or work if you don’t want to spend an extra 2 hours a day sitting in traffic.
I have a theory that these preschools that are so hard to get into are the major incubators for "mommy madness." It seems likely that if you make parents jump through hoops to get their kids enrolled, you’re selecting for high intensity parenting; the same people who were willing to line up at 3 am to get into the school are also going to make lots of calls for the fundraising auction and push for all organic snacks. Even at our laid-back preschool, I sometimes feel guilty for not being more involved; I hate to think what I’d feel like in one of those pressure cookers.
After another trip to the doctor, D is now on six different medications. Two of them taste awful, and he howls and runs away when we take the bottle out, but then uses every ounce of bravery in his body to swallow them. I keep wondering whether we’re doing the right thing, if we’re putting him through this unnecessarily.
This afternoon, I remembered one of my favorite Anne Lamott articles, about God’s in box. I love Lamott, because she’s just as neurotic as I am. She both makes me feel normal just the way I am, and gives me hope that it’s possible to get off the hamster wheel.
As I’ve mentioned before, my representative in the House of Delegates, Marian van Landingham isn’t running for reelection. This is a solidly Democratic district, so all the action is likely to be in the primary. So far, there are 6 announced candidates:
The Alexandria Democratic Committee will be having a candidates’ forum this Sunday, March 6, 2:00 pm. at the Durant Center, 1501 Cameron St, Alexandria. Open to the public, no charge. I’m planning on going, because I honestly don’t know who I’ll support. Several of the candidates have impressive experience. Garvey is a current member of the Arlington school board, Hobson is a former delegate, and Mosqueda is the legislative aide for Brian Moran, the delegate for the adjoining district. Englin has the most detailed issues statement on his website, and his politics look very close to mine. He’s young, but he’s got an interesting bio — a liberal Democrat from the Air Force, with degrees from both the Air Force Academy and the Kennedy School of Government.
If anyone wants to make a case for one of the candidates, I’d love to hear it. And for the majority of my readers, who don’t live nearby, I’d be interested in your general comments about how you pick a candidate to support, especially in a wide-open primary.
I don’t have the energy tonight to write a book review, so instead I’m sharing this interesting blog entry I found on how to get the most from books you read, from Rosa Say (via managementprof). She’s specifically talking about business books (a genre I generally avoid like the plague), but I think some of the points are generally applicable. Two suggestions jumped out at me in particular.
Say’s first recommendation is:
"As soon as you complete a book—any book, business or otherwise—find someone to share it with. When you talk about a book with another person, you retain it better, you question your own comprehension, and you gain another reader’s insights to add to and flesh out your own."
This is one of the main reasons why I try to do a book review on this blog each week. (The other reason being that it helps me keep reading a priority in the face of my never ending to-do list.)
Say’s final recommendation, which she says she cribbed from Carolyn See’s Making a Literary Life, is:
"Send the author a note or email to say thank you for sharing their knowledge with you."
This isn’t something I currently do, but I think I’m going to start. It costs me very little — especially when I’ve already done the thinking and writing involved in one of these book reviews — and it might lead to something useful.
Yesterday’s Washington Post had an article on the front page of the business section about advertising aimed at children, and the not terribly effective group that monitors it. It’s an interesting article, and made me once again grateful that we have TiVo and can fast-forward through all the commercials.
Unfortunately, the article was illustrated with big color pictures of several products that have children’s tv and movie characters prominently featured on them.
So D took one look at the paper, pointed at the box of poptarts with Mr. Incredible on them, and said "I’d like those."
"Do you know what they are?"
"No. What are they?"
"Why do you think you’d like them?"
"I just do."
"If I put a sticker of Mr. Incredible on these" — point at the bottle of children’s vitamins that I’ve been trying to convince him to eat — " would you eat them?"
"No."
"So why do you think you’d like those? Just because they have Mr. Incredible on them doesn’t mean they’re good."
"I would like them."
I go into the kitchen and pull out a box of macaroni and cheese with Blue on it from the cupboard. "Do you remember this? You really wanted us to get this, because it had Blue on it? When we made it, did you like it?"
"No."
He returns to the table and the newspaper. "But I’d like this. We can go to the store and buy some."
I sigh. My husband says to me: "This is going right into your blog, isn’t it?"
D’s a very bright 4-year old. But he’s simply not able to make the logical leaps that I was leading him towards.
The Post reported yesterday that Russ Potts is jumping into the Virginia Governor’s race as an independent candidate. Both the Kaine and the Kilgore campaigns are busily spinning that Potts will take away more votes from the other guy. I honestly have no idea which is more likely. Raising Kaine (an independent, pro-Kaine blog) argues that Potts is more conservative than not, and suggests checking out his record on VoteSmart.
What jumped out at me on VoteSmart was the ratings under "Family and Children’s Issues." These turn out to be based on the ratings of a group called the Family Foundation of Virginia. Their definition of pro-family is anti-same sex marriage, anti-choice (they want to make Virginia "the most pro-life state in the nation"), and anti-taxes. That’s not my family values.
I’m not blaming Vote Smart. They explain that "Project Vote Smart collects performance evaluations from special interest groups who provide them, regardless of issue or bias." It seems that no groups with a progressive definition of what constitutes family and children’s issues are putting out scorecards in Virginia. (The Children’s Defense Fund does so at the national level.)
This seems like a gap that’s easy enough to fill. We’d need to figure out a set of specific votes to use, and then fill out a spreadsheet showing all Delegates and Senators voting records. I’m going to contact Voices for Virginia’s Children and see if they’re interested; the Virginia Family Values PAC might be another possibility. Anyone want to join me in this project?
(If you’re in another state, check Vote Smart to see whose issuing ratings in your state. If you want to develop a similar project, the state affiliate of Voices for America’s Children is probably a good place to start.)
I’m tired tonight. I blew off the fundraising auction at D’s preschool tonight and am going to take a bath and get to bed early.
So instead of writing anything of my own, I’m just going to share a few absolutely lovely posts about the promises parents make to their children:
Via Ms. Musings, I read about WHEN (Women Helping Empower Neighborhoods), a Pittsfield, MA group that helps women get involved in politics. I was particularly intrigued to learn that part of the support it provides is things like driving kids to classes and providing cooked meals to free up time for the candidates. This makes a lot of sense to me; family responsibilities are clearly one of the reasons that there aren’t a lot of women in their 30s running for office.
The article reminded me of Mark Schmitt’s comments about Zephyr Teachout’s argument that people are hungering for connection — not just on line, but in person, possibly over drinks, and that groups like the DNC and the ACLU should provide such opportunities as a way to get people involved. Schmitt’s response is that while such meetings might be appealing to some people (young singles he thinks), the last thing he needs in his busy life is more meetings.
I thought that was an interesting exchange, because I agree with both of them. I’m aching for community, and the opportunity to feel like I’m part of a movement, not just wandering around in the wilderness on my own. But I also don’t have time for lots of meetings. (I think I’m about to drop out of my local Democratic committee, because the meetings are neither pleasurable nor make me feel like I’m making a difference.)
One way to reconcile these competing needs would be to make the meetings more family-friendly. A newspaper article on WHEN describes its meetings:
Monthly meetings also do not resemble traditional political gatherings. Meetings last for precisely one hour to make the time manageable for mothers, and children are always welcome. Mattson-Brown laughed when she recalled making one presentation with her 2-year-old son holding onto her leg the entire time.
Another approach is that taken by the Mainstreet Moms Operation Blue (MMOB; formerly Mainstreet Moms Opposing Bush). They encourage you to get together with the people you already know, and to activate those networks for political ends. During the election season, they provided all the information you needed to organize house parties to write letters encouraging other moms to register and vote — including addresses.
