Good morning kittens –

I am sorry to not have posted yesterday – I like to help you start off your week with a little dose of KT. I know how you’ve missed me from the weekend. Anyhoo, various undesirable events prevented me from having the time to post yesterday. One real thorn in my side is work – apparently it seems that I’m supposed to actually be WORKING and quite diligently – all day this summer.

Didn’t senior management get the memo that it’s, ahem, SUMMER…and we should be having long lesiurely lunches and short Fridays?

So let’s get to it, kittens, the topic on top of KT’s mind: preschool. The dreaded word. Not dreaded because said toddler will be out of the house for a set number of hours each week – mais non! That is called LIBERATION (see, back in the scary Baby Boot Camp entry, didn’t I tell you that you weren’t signing up for a life prison sentence with birthing this child? I never lie to you.)

Preschool is dreaded because it’s a pain in the ass to settle on which one to send your child too, as you operate under the naive assumption that at the end of the day, you’ll actually have a CHOICE.

There are so many things to consider. When should your child enroll? Are they too young at 2? Is it too long to wait until 3? What about their birthday – do they miss the September cutoff and therefore can’t start until they are 3 even though they’ll be in the 2s room?

If you’re anything like me, you’re busily thinking about how your child is surely a child prodigy and would be BORED being almost 3 in the 2s room. Right?

I mean – one morning, said child will wake up tap dancing like Shirley Temple around the room and composing like Mozart, so she can’t POSSIBLY wait until she’s almost 3 to begin and be stuck with a bunch of simple minded 2 year-olds.

RIGHT?

But wait – or maybe she won’t be ready at 2 and would benefit her more in the long run to start when she’s 3?

You get the idea.

So along the way, the one thing that helps make the decision a tad bit easier is what KT likes to call the “sneaking in the back door” approach.

What is that,  you wonder?

Ahhh….young naive kittens (unless you’ve been there, done that, then you know where I’m headed).

Gather round.

See, those of us living in over populated large metropolitan cities know all too well that landing a coveted spot in preschool means sharpening your claws and elbows, putting on your Sunday finest, and getting ready to wait in long horrible 12 hour lines outside in February to not even secure a guaranteed spot for the fall, or pushing your way through various open houses each fall, parading your child around like some champion pony, showing how she would be the ultimate asset to that program and should, without a doubt, beat out even the alumni or sibling spots for the coveted ONE spot for the 4,534,124 kids that want that same spot.

It’s ugly out there.

And so, enter KT’s “sneaking in the backdoor” approach. Which frankly, I stumbled upon on accident, though you better believe I’ve convinced my husband that it was all part of this brilliant master plan that I’ve cooked up to make our lives easier. And therefore, I should be awarded with jewels and gifts from around the globe.

OK – so the backdoor approach. That would be calling around to preschools in the summer, when no snot nosed twerps are around, when only a skeleton staff even comes into the office on intermittent days, and innocently inquiring about openings. What you might find is that for whatever reason, there happens to be a spot and well, no one else is competing with you for it because they’re off sunning themselves at the beach or the pool not thinking about preschool.

And with that open spot, you can swoop in like the pretty white dove that you are, secure said spot for your child, and therefore miss out on all the painful open houses and long lines on a cold February day.

C’est vrai.

See, at the end of the day, there’s always somewhere for your tyke to go to preschool and there IS a way to avoid a lot of the hassle, but some of it rests on chance.

Once I finish my sleuting and snooping around to unearth any secret horrors about said preschool, I will quickly sign on the dotted line and enroll our child prodigy to begin after she turns 2.

When she wakes up dancing like Shirley Temple, you’ll be the first to know.

Well kittens, it’s Monday morning and frankly, I’m relieved to be at work. I stand by my original statement that this age (coming on 20 months) has been my favorite so far with my darling daughter, starting around 18 months. But it is the most mentally draining I’ve experienced to date.

I need to reclaim my authority and take back the night but how does one do that when they are BEAT DOWN? Thus my reasoning for being glad to be sitting at my desk, where every move I make, I can just make, I do not have to evaluate if each decision is going to be worth the battle.

Ahh…..toddler-hood…and the fierce desire for independence.

Don’t get me wrong. I like that my daughter wants to be a big girl and do things on her terms and has an opinion.

But I don’t always have to like it. And I don’t.

Just like I love being home with her, but it doesn’t mean I love it every second of the day. Because I don’t. Right there, you have a true mom confession.

My little firecracker can scream and force her way out of any situation now. High chair? Dead to her. Completely. But how does one avoid the breakfast that goes on for 1.5 hours. I don’t have it in me at 7am to force her into the high chair because I’ve seen what happens, it peaks into a screaming crying fit and she gets progressively more worked up to the point where she’s gasping for air.

But if I let her sit at the table, then she’s back and forth, for the marathon breakfast that gets dragged all over my house.

How does one reason with a toddler?

Intuition tells me you don’t.

But how does one enforce that you are the rule-maker, the task-masker extraordinaire? The warden of the house? And that breakfast happens ONCE a day at the table, and when you leave, you are done?

Kittens, I am stumped.

If you tell me consistency, I’ll tell you to bite my ass and ask you if you have a 20 month at home.

Take the DVR, for instance. I know it’s a game. I know that telling her “no” and removing her from it, consistently, is what works in theory.

But the mere “NO” coming out of my mouth almost excites her. It’s like we’re doing a dance, I’ve made the first move, and for her, there’s only one move next. And that is, to do the VERY thing I’ve just said “No” too.

SO then she does it.

Then I repeat and move her from said DVR.

And what does she do?

Has an enormous fit and then goes right back to where she was.

How about going outside?

You know you have a toddler at home when before you allow your child outside, you think to yourself, do I really want to let her out because then I have to deal with the battle of getting her back in.

You got it.

My new life. It’s non-stop and fun, it’s true, but man she is beating me down.

Like I said, today, I love Monday.