It is the end of May, pouring down rain and I have a cold. Sneezing, stuffy nose, clogged ears, scratchy throat, headache, lethargic . . . the whole bit.  Yet, I still did go to my 10am Pilates class yesterday because I have finally arrived at the place where I care about my mind and body and want to improve upon myself.  It also doesn’t hurt that I get to drop my three 3-year olds off at the playcenter for two hours.  Even so, I was quite proud of myself because in years past, if the wind was blowing too hard or I had a hangnail, it might have been excuse enough for me to sit on my butt and not do much.

I told myself that when we got to the really hard parts in class, like when we lay on our back, then arch our back and butt up as high as we can, then lifting our leg straight in the air and lastly lowering our butt half-way to the ground and lifting it back up (with our butt and leg still straight in the air) twenty times on each side, that I could bow out and take a little rest in child’s pose due to my illness.   I always say this to myself when I think I may be going into a class that may be too hard. I protect myself by giving myself a way out of the pain.  In the end, I can never do it.  I may not be the best yoga or Pilates student in the class, and I am not the worst, but I may be the hardest working.  I try very hard to improve my skills and work hard to lose the weight I have been holding on to for 20 years.  For these reasons I do not allow myself to rest in child’s pose when my nose starts to drip snot onto my mat.  I get a kleenex and soldier on.

My precious little triplets started preschool recently.  They love gymnastics so much that on a Monday I called our local gymnastics facility to see if they had three openings in their preschool program, and on Tuesday they started preschool.  They had exactly three spots in their Tuesday/Thursday program and when trying to get three kids into preschool, one must jump on opportunities such as this.  I was proud of my kids because they made the transition into preschool so easy for me.  They kissed me goodbye and ran out onto the floor and said “bye mommy.” That was it.  They have each other.  They knew I would come back to get them.  They love gymnastics.

So I have been driving myself absolutely crazy trying to figure out where to put the triplets for preschool the next year this coming August.  Just when I think I have it all figured out where I am sending them to preschool something or someone comes along and gives me doubt.  I was going to put them in a Montessori near my house that gets rave reviews, but it will cost me $1200 a month.  For $1200 a month they will get a wonderful environment with great teachers and an opportunity to really learn.  Then seeing how much they loved their gymnastics program I thought I will just leave them in there for next year at half the cost.  Their learning will be minimal and their fun will be maximized and my bank account won’t yell “ouch” at me every month.  This was settled until I ran into a fellow Moms of Multiples at the gym.  She told me of a charter Montessori program through the public school where the teacher is fantastic and her kids are thriving and learning amazing things.

Oh god.  My kids are going to know how to do cartwheels but they won’t know what sounds are associated with their letters.  While my kids are jumping on the trampoline other kids will be tracing their letters on lined paper.  What will my triplets amount to?

So this is what my life consists of lately: trying to perfect my yoga and Pilates practice and obsessing over where to put my kids for their first full year of preschool.  In between I make a lot of meals, clean a lot of dishes, fold a lot of laundry, and watch a lot of documentaries.  Oh and I finished my book Poser: My Life in 23 Yoga Poses.

In other news we cut Ava’s hair 8 inches to her shoulders.  After months of trying to get Ava to agree to cut her gorgeous red locks, in a spontaneous moment on a Saturday afternoon Ava proclaimed, “I want to cut my hair off today!”  I had mixed feelings.  I was very excited to not fight with Ava over hair combing every morning but also very sad to see that hair “to die for” fall all over the salon floor.  My end conclusion: hair grows back, and by the time it does, hopefully Ava can fix it herself.

If you are wondering where the pictures are, they are absent from my posts lately because there is a glitch in our system.  Our network that allows me to access the home computer and retrieve pictures to put on my laptop is not connecting right now and so no pictures until Chris gets a few minutes to get it up and running.

Until next time, the mothership is signing off.

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Preschool

One thought on “Preschool

  • May 27, 2011 at 1:12 am
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    WHAT?!?! You can’t post that you cut 8 inches off of Ava’s hair and then finish with, “But I can’t show you what she looks like.” That’s just rude.

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