I love information. No, not in general. Well, I mean, I suppose I like it in general, but I’m talking specifically about the type of information that comes in the form of a packet. Or a binder (without women). Or a folder stocked full of sheets of info. I prefer packets or folders or binders because they usually contain more information, but I won’t turn down a decent brochure. When I get into a new hotel room, the first thing I do (after stripping the nasty coverlet off the bed, should there be one) is take a look at all of the information in the room. I like to page through the hotel’s own info before perusing what they’ve left for me to know about the city. The more info, the better.
I also love the info that comes with a new job. Make no mistake, I don’t love forms, but I love the informative sheets about benefits and procedures. Last year’s gig at the UW was plentiful in this way; there was tons of info about all of the perks of being on the faculty of the university. Hoo-ray.
So with this in mind, it will come as no great surprise that I am sitting here eagerly awaiting the info for Bear’s new school. “What?” you ask. “Don’t you already have that info?” you wonder. “That was weeks ago that you enrolled,” you say. Well, you’re right. Except you’re not. Because just when you thought we had it all settled, we made another change on you. Bear is going to yet another school! Yes, this will be the fourth one this year. Except that it will really only be the second because she never started – or set foot – in the other two. We stopped by to drop off the deposit yesterday and I started to cry when we saw her new room. Only these tears weren’t because the place was kinda dark or depressing or had seen better days. These tears were happy tears. Tears that reflected my relief that I feel like we’ve found the right place for her and a place I see her staying in for many years. Tears indicating a great weight off of my shoulders.
I know that we have been so lucky in the past couple of weeks to feel that we had a choice between two high-quality, long-running, well-established, loved day care centers. It wasn’t a feeling we were used to. To change again wasn’t a decision that was easy and we went back and forth with it for days. I had a long talk with the GAOOG about our dilemma and I think that talk, more than anything, is what led me to advocate for the new place. I can’t thank her enough. She told me that while I could rationalize any choice, and go through the logic of why one was better than the other, that it was also ok to trust my gut with a decision like this. And my gut was definitely telling me we should send her to the new option. And thanks also to the GAOOG for something more. She could hear in my voice something that I had previously articulated only to AO. She knew that part of me felt the new place was too good for me. She reminded me that I don’t want to pass along that thinking to Bear. And she’s so right. I don’t think this place is too good for Bear. I don’t think any place is. I needed the reminder, though, that I was doing what I vowed not to do: passing along ridiculous insecurities that are pointless, counter-productive and hurtful. So, with that, we are headed to an exceptionally convenient, beautiful, established, loving Montessori school and I couldn’t be more excited.
After dropping off the deposit, we were told that we would be getting a packet of information in the next few days. I contained my excitement. I almost lost my cool, though, when we were told the packet would most likely be coming through the mail. Oh my gosh! Information sent by my love, the Post Office! Yes, I really think we made the right choice.*
*She starts at the new place September 16. I’m sure on September 16 I’ll be a disaster, thinking of all of the ways in which we made a colossal mistake.