McRed wakes up needing to go to the doctor for his swollen, pink-rimmed eye ball. I am sure he would have preferred a 10 a.m. appointment, give him time to sleep in, relax and lounge about, but I scored him an 8:45er... he had to get up, hustle and go.
I took Turbo and Bear to visit a bilingual school for pre-schoolers, where they teach everything in Spanish. If I enroll these boys, by the time they enter kindergarten, they will be fluent in Spanish, and then, by the time they are in third grade, they will forget it, but is it better to have learned and forgotten, than to have never learned at all? A timeless question.
I could go with a co-op, but that involves, well, parent involvement. I'm more like a drop the kiddies off and bolt kinda mom myself. I can't bolt til they are 3, BUT, I can veg in the room next to their class with a good book :).
We were GOING TO BE ON TIME dang it. We were. Until misfortune struck. Oh oh. The #*%#$@ choo choo. Yep, them red lights started flashing and I know these red lights are not the kind you mess around with. So we stopped and waited for the long, long, loong, looooong train to go by. So that made us late. I found a nice semi-English speaking person who asked if I needed help when I got to the school which is located in a Spanish Catholic Church. Mind you, the only thing that makes it Spanish is that the majority of the congregation is, well, Spanish speaking. Anyhow, I let the boys go and Turbo took off and got a fairly good distance when SPLAT and I just picked him up. He fussed, but then shooshed so I made the mistake of not checking. So we enter the doors to the preschool to... gasps.. HE"S BLEEDING... Now, most mom's would go, OH NO poor baby oooh... Me? Ha. I'm thinking "#(%_#$ y%) bloody child would be do this to me today. Now, he didn't fall and wound himself completely. He just reopened an old scab wound, sharing his blood with his brother's new shirt, all over his new green cargos, that luckily, hide blood real well, and mommy's shirt. We got him fixed up, to which, to all our shocks and horrors, in class, he proceeded to fall four more times. /boggle. So there we were, late and bloody. I bet they will be thrilled to find we may join them on a more permanent basis.
Going to that parish made me reflect on my childhood. The boys and Drama better hope I stop reflecting wistfully or they may find themselves sitting in Sunday school every other week or so for the next 15 years.