A few little bitty things:
Krista asked what kind of soup we were having. I made vegetable beef soup using leftover meat from French Dip sandwiches. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to use any of the au jus like I usually do because my very helpful husband tossed it. Though, to his credit, it may have been a day too late to freeze it.
The soup was nice anyway. Next time I have lentils or split peas hanging in the cupboard waiting to be used up, I’ll put them in a couple hours earlier. They just weren’t quite ready at dinner time. Close enough, though.
I would love to make onion soup, but my children would not eat it. Neither would my husband.
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In other news, I called the dayschool this morning to ask about tuition. We’d previously decided to send our eldest to school there instead of the public middle school next year because we feel the dayschool is a better environment for the confusing and rocky adolescent years. The plan was to keep our daughter in the nearby elementary school until 6th grade but we’re growing increasingly dissatisfied with that situation. Her grades are excellent and the teacher only has positive things to say, but she is not coping well emotionally with the very talkative and full* classroom. I’ve talked to several teachers and parents and the principal about the highly energetic class my daughter’s in and I’m disappointed in the school’s inability to turn things around. At this time, my otherwise happy daughter is meeting with the school counselor once a week. Her teacher has also said she can sometimes work in the library if the classroom is too noisy for her. This will do for now, but I don’t think I’m willing to deal with this for three more years because without some hollering, it might not get better…
When my daughter was about to enter Kindergarten, I found out they were only going to have three Kindy classes. Two morning and one afternoon sessions. Then I found out that each class would be at (or very near) capacity. I thought this was ridiculous to stuff so many into three time slots when both the Kindy teachers were employed full-time. I made a ruckus and the class was split into four groups that were still big for that age group. When this class moved up to 1st Grade, they were so large they still had to be four-track and teachers got bumped around to accommodate the need. Now, in 2nd Grade, they’re in three classrooms and it appears they’re a bit squished. I understand there are limitations and that I won’t be perfectly satisfied with any school, but something stinks here.
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I visited my therapist on Wednesday. I went in not knowing how to describe what is exactly wrong with me. That was frustrating because I’ve always gone in with a specific complaint or at least a topic. This time I wanted to yell, “I feel crazy! Fix it!” but I know that’s not how it works. Since that visit, I’ve tried to find some down time to focus on my insanity so I can figure out what it is that’s troubling me. What I’ve come up with so far is “I don’t know!” and believe I need a return to regularly scheduled, weekly EMDR therapy. I’ve done EMDR before and had good results. I’m excited about doing it again because I’m fascinated by the way my brain works during the process. But I’m afraid, too. Afraid of what’s in there that I can’t define. Scared to dredge up old hurt and face it. I really want to be well, though. I want to bind the edges up right this time so I can stop slapping on layers of temporary fix-it tape.
Before that, though, I’m going to try to have a nice weekend that includes a hockey game and the celebration of my baby’s third birthday.
