Hijacked by my own thoughts...

I started a blog post yesterday about loneliness and not feeling like I'd found "my" people and whatnot, and in mentally reviewing stuff (because I often start posts then have to go about life and finish the posts up later), I realized that really wasn't where I was going with any of it, and I came to a conclusion about my son, even though it's not what I thought I was thinking about. Does that make sense? No? Welcome to my husband's world.

During the past twenty-four hours, I've felt almost giddy with hope and excitement about the future. I don't know whether it's the decision I made or the fact that I always get a little bit loopy when fall weather arrives and I can open the windows and reconnect with the world. Whatever, I'm feeling good.

Last week, I had a couple of experiences that led me to feeling as described above; I don't really belong anywhere. Like, I met some awesome people, and had a few interesting opportunities, and at the end of the day, each time, I was just left thinking, "I'm a weird-o, and I don't know if we can get past *fill-in-the-blank* to make a relationship work well here."

Except.

You know where I DO fit in?

My family.

I get why Daphne likes being home so much. It's pretty awesome (when her little brother isn't crying or whining). And it's not judgy and we're not touchy about things and we don't try to push stuff on each other.

I'm really trying to tell this story without too many specifics, but it's difficult to explain this way.

Let me give a couple of specifics:

First, I went to MOPS for the first time last week. Mal lasted an hour in Moppets, which was great for him. When I went to pick him up, he was standing in the floor alone crying. My guess is that the childcare workers tried to soothe him, realized that they couldn't, and moved on to other babies after they'd texted me. Heck, I leave him crying in the floor quite often. He cries a lot. So I ain't even mad about that.

But after I thought about it, I came to the conclusion that I'll go back next week and as long as he's cool with being left in childcare again, great. If not, though... I'm going to bag it until after Christmas and try again.

"At some point, he's going to have to learn how to get along without you..." Okay, but that time is not now. How grateful am I that this is a "want to" rather than a "have to"?

Then, I received a letter in the mail about a class for Mal's age (roughly; it's actually up to age three) that said something to the effect of "young children need structure to learn." This is diametrically opposed to my personal educational paradigm, which is that, to learn, kids (and especially very young kids) need to play.

That letter happened to come later in the day after I'd talked to a woman who was very concerned about getting her not-yet-two-year-old child into a school that "emphasizes math and science." I'd just mentioned the Waldorf School, where the curriculum is pretty much play until the kids are in third grade.

Well, this weekend, I attempted that class to see how Mal would do. Of course, he could not sit still for one minute, much less the seven or eight minutes of the instruction. And everyone was so nice, telling me it's fine, and he'll get used to it, and not to worry... But the thing is, I'm not embarrassed or afraid that he won't be able to cut it. I actually don't believe in it. I don't think that he should. I'm not willing to work on it until he can do it. Not at this stage in his life.

Speaking of which, I need to write a very kind woman an email and explain that so she'll know why we're not back the next time.

Anyway, all of this ruffling of my proverbial feathers has made me realize how much of an educational anarchist I probably am, and how I don't like people infringing on my kid's freedom to learn how and what he wants. Which made me see that I'm probably going to be keeping him home, too...

One of the reasons I wanted to move to Oak Hill was that we'd be close to the Waldorf School. I think it's a wonderful program. But more and more I am remembering the freedom we had when Daphne was younger: freedom to travel, or to have all-day adventures (in mystery shopping, often, listening to audio books in the car), or to stay home and do whatever we wanted. I want that same thing for Mal. Especially here in Austin instead of the uber-suburbs, there will be so much to choose from.

So... I'm still tired. I still feel like I don't "fit in" anywhere since I really can't get out and do stuff that excludes this very clingy little boy. And yet, more and more, I'm finding that I think right here by my side is where he's supposed to be.

It'll be interesting to see how this all pans out.

Passed out after charming all of the ladies at the nursing home.