I love these summers off.

We've been enjoying our local pool membership - Sullivan starts swimming lessons next week.

We enjoyed an extended visit with family from the West Coast - always bittersweet....but fun.

We had our final post-op visit with the cardiologist. All is well - Sullivan has grown more than 3 inches in the past 3 months, which is pretty outrageous. As Dr. R puts it, the van is packed and we're ready to start our journey living with CHDs. The past 3 years have been spent getting his heart ready to do what it is able.... it's kind of strange to think that he won't be cured from this. It's not "all better." It's just better equipped to work without having to work too hard, which starts to cause other problems. When you look at this kind of crazy 3 year old, it's amazing on a daily basis how much he's endured already in his short life. You want to remind him how brave he is and how he doesn't need to cry over the TV having to go off because he laid on a hospital bed for more than a month of his life hooked up to wires and breathing tubes. C'mon kid!

Anywho...we are anticipating the return of fall and the return of our not-so-relaxed lifestyle. Trying to savor these last few weeks.... enjoying the freedom and fun of these (HOT) summer days.

We celebrated Sullivan's third birthday this weekend.
I'm not sure I can really put into words how relieved we have felt this spring - but it was just amazing to be able to celebrate with him.
He had so much fun hanging out in the sprinkler with cousins and friends, and the pure joy we witnessed was unbelievable.
His laugh is pretty ridiculous - if you haven't heard it you are missing out. Really.
Not to gush about my own son, but after this journey of his, he deserves some kudos. It was the start of a new chapter for us. Putting surgeries and extended hospital stays behind us - moving forward and enjoying this kid that we have been entrusted with. Our big guy!

Oh my.

This month (April) has ended.

And what a month it has been!

April concluded our round of open heart surgeries...we knew when Sullivan was born that it would be a challenging first three years of life.

Not even for him...but for us. Anticipating three consecutive operations, sitting by his side for days and days in the hospital. A grand total of 29 days in 3 years...I guess that's not so bad...

Lots of sleepness nights for mom and dad....

Let's just say we knew it would be daunting.

Anyway, I am glad and relieved to say that we have crossed through to the other side.

Not completely unscathed...

one of us has an 8 inch scar running down his belly

two of us have significantly more gray hair...

but I can look ahead and say that we are done with this part.

Maybe not surprisingly, the hardest transition has been S's emotional state. He's had a really hard time since being home from the hospital. Waking up frequently with nightmares - to the point that he doesn't even want to go to bed.... he has an intense fear of being without Mommy, in particular. You would think I'd have dropped him off there and returned a week later, tan and in shape. Doesn't he remember I spent every waking and sleeping hour by his bedside??

Anyway, the month is over. We return to normal life tomorrow. In another 6 weeks, I'll be home for the summer. It's going to be a good one. :)

I think ideally, you always want to be able to look at your child and marvel.
Let's be honest - not always the case.
Temper tantrums? Not cute.
Yelling, "Go away mommy - go to the kitchen?" Also not cute.

A little perspective helps. It's hard to balance just appreciating the boy and being fatalistic about it.
I don't think I want to elaborate greatly upon this.

It's funny in a situation like this - not to let fear guide your relationship. This feeling that we have to get in some family time before surgery - make sure he visits the relatives.... JUST IN CASE.
Just in case what?
David advises that the only option to be prepared for is that Sullivan will have a quick stay in the hospital and will be back home before we know it. To entertain any other possibility is unfair. To voice these fears....yikes. It gives a name to something you don't have to and don't want to name.
So the question. How to coexist with these fears? How to show the 3 year old that we all will be brave? That there's nothing to worry about and that we'll all be home soon?
Well, that is the question. Mommy may look peaceful on the outside, but keep that heart far from him just now.

A year ago, my mom and I started taking a weekly yoga class. It's been great - at first it was just a way to get some exercise and hang out, but I have to say that after a year, it's turned into something else as well.
There's something about spending an intense 90 minutes focusing solely on your body and getting it to do things you didn't think possible. Our teacher is always saying that so much of our resistance is just our mind not allowing us to take risks - I think that both of us, although we do spend a great deal of time groaning and giggling, have stopped telling her, "There's no way I can do that..." She also encourages us to make the pose work for us - meaning that as long as the alignment and positioning are right, it's okay if you can't entirely grab your big toe or get your heel on the ground.
We've progressed, too! My lovely mother, in particular, spent a great deal of time receiving some hands-on encouragement from Paulette - but last night? Not so much! She actually asked me to demonstrate a pose AND referred to us as, "Experienced Yogis!"
It's funny - I've been so grouchy and tired all week, but after our class last night, my mood is totally improved. That 90 minutes a week to only think about yourself is seriously restorative. Good for the body and the mind. I can feel my muscles more acutely than I did yesterday, and I find myself "leading with my heart" as I walk around the classroom during the day. (again, the alignment).
I'm grateful that I have this time each week - time to hang out with my mom doing something kind of unique, time to have all to myself....it's just lovely.
Granted it's all taking place in the wrestling room of my dear old alma mater, Cheltenham High School, but even that's fine. I can remember our "___ of steel" workouts in the there during gym class - the TV is still hanging in the corner...and the walls are covered with plaques honoring former classmates' achievements. So I guess in some ways it helps me reconnect with my inner teenager?
Who knows....
Anyway...I forgot my point. Except that I encourage parents everywhere to find even a small sad little 90 minutes a week where you can get away and be more of yourself.

The point -
Underneath all the bitterness and jealousy, there was a point to my previous post and here it is.
I feel like we're all (myself included) nervous about letting others into our messy lives. So the blogs we read are all shiny and sweet and cozy. I'd love to see a picture every once in a while of the bookshelf that hasn't been dusted in 3 years or hear about a child throwing a tantrum. That's all.
I know that authors have a point. Some people blog specifically about ideas for creative families...that's fine. Some people blog specifically to share recipes or food critiques...
I'll just have to be a bit more selective, and not take everything so personally.
We all love our kids and families - and if every family looked the same, it would be rather dull anyway, so I guess it's time to start appreciating the diversity in our parenting and housekeeping skills.

I decided you're either two types of mom these days -

are you a Dooce or a SouleMamma?

I prefer Dooce - this morning, instead of talking about her latest embroidery project or the wonderful home baked goods she worked so hard on, she wrote about how at breakfast when she poured the bacon grease into the plastic bowl, it melted. YES! I've done that...I get it.

I have to be honest, I'm about to permanently block the latter....

It's not her specifically, but it's the whole idea of what a "good mother" is and does.

If I read one more post about snuggling with her kids in front of the fire while they all work on their respective knitting projects, I'm might vomit.

I don't mean to pick on her.....she offers a lot of great ideas....she and her little creative genius brood. (note heavy sarcasm...)

Where are all the moms posting about messy houses and kids who are in daycare?? About how they've had the same project sitting in their sewing box since 2008?? That's what I want to hear about. Good ideas aren't inspiring anymore - they're downright depressing. When did we all become so self-involved and vain? Where are all the real people?

Hey - I'm not complaining here - I have plenty to be thankful for - I'm just under the impression that there's not much support out there for moms who aren't creative wizards. Or who don't have the time to be creative wizards.

I've chosen to go and do what I do - D and I both work full-time. We haven't figured out how to fit exercise into our weekly schedule and we pretty much rely heavily on leftovers. I let my son watch Curious George on occasion when we both come into the house grouchy and tired from long days. The thing is, I'm willing to bet that he'll grow up to be (hopefully) just as (or even more) self-adjusted and interesting as the kids knitting in front of the fire. It's all the imperfections in our lives that make it just perfect for us.

Valentine's Day...

It's in the same category as New Year's for me.

A holiday with much anticipation but not much pay out, if you will...

Most of the time, I feel like I'm a pretty easy going gal...

this holiday turns me into a nightmare, though.

I talk up how it doesn't mean anything...I don't need gifts and flowers...

but without fail, every single year I get mad and throw a tantrum.

Seriously.

Like a 2 year old.

Over not getting all the things I say I don't want in the first place.

So let's run over the day - full of things from my husband's heart...

that way I can hear how crazy I am.

1. He made us all breakfast - oatmeal with toasted walnuts and maple syrup.

2. He took Sullivan out grocery shopping so that I could have a couple hours to myself AND THEN I went to the spa to have a facial and massage (a birthday gift from my mom) and he sat at home.

3. He went to Target tonight to pick up diapers and then stopped and got Tiffin takeout for dinner for us to enjoy.

And my first question after all of this? "I guess you're not too into cards even, this year, huh?"
It shames to even put this down...kind of admitting to an awful habit. (I pick split-ends, while I'm spilling my guts...if you see me, stop me.)

Anyway, the same thing happened to me last week while talking with a good friend. I was actually COMPLAINING about my life at home, and in the middle of talking about Nothing - really nothing...I was able to talk out the things that my sweet husband does. All the time.

Waking up every morning with our son - making him breakfast, getting him dressed and off to school.

He does the (most of the) laundry and more than often does the grocery shopping. (He saves more money - really.)

He washes the dishes and makes lunches for all three of us almost every evening.

I could go on - for a while. Looking at the above, I wonder what I contribute!

With both of us working full-time, we are both exhausted and stressed out a lot. But he does SO much for both Sullivan and me and most of it goes unappreciated.

WORLD! David Lowing is an amazing and loving husband and father and Sullivan and I are blessed and lucky to have the privilege of knowing and loving him!

creative much?

So this is what I've been spending my energy doing....
which is also why our house, literally, has cobwebs which I notice every time I walk up the stairs and fully intend to rid the house of this weekend.
1. Science fair project for kindergartners..."What kind of drinks are good for our teeth?" Riveting and earth shaking, to say the least.
2. Classroom design and organization. How to have room for 22 kids, 4 tables, and 10 center spots?? The never-ending question. Hopefully the addition of a kidney bean shaped table and the subtraction of my 1920s huge wooden desk will aid in the quest.
3. Arranging markers in strategic places in the room. And making sure that some are saved from the dirty hands of children.
4. Trying to come up with positive things to say about the writing of 18 children who don't know how to write. (This may be a good reason to NEVER buy battery operated toys for my child - kids have no imagination anymore...)
5. Creating new and exciting pointers for students to use so that they can "Read and Write the Room," during centers. The latest? Velour flowers from the dollar section of Target.
6. Word Webs. Each more colorful and beautiful than the last.

Once in a while something delicious comes out of the kitchen (and then we eat it 4 nights out of the week - leftovers are a working mom's savior). And Sullivan's room is looking pretty cute these days, but pretty much all of that is due to David's diligence and hard work.

Two more bonuses? A new storm door, which now enables to sit on the couch (gasp!!) without an arctic blast chilling us to the bone. And a new roof which will halt the crumbling of our son's bedroom ceiling.

I got yelled at today by the oil change guy. He informed me that when he tested the level of the oil, NOTHING showed up on the stick and didn't I know how detrimental that was to the engine? So sue me.
And David, bless his heart, was able to remove and put in our new toilet today, but got stuck on the silly Ikea cabinet, and now it hangs doorless and shelfless on the bathroom wall with all of our bathroom stuff sitting in piles on the floor.
I suppose that projects seem to look worse and worse right before they are done and amazing. Our old toilet? Gross. It took 4 flushes to get a 'normal' amount of debris down the hole. You'd have thought I was tossing dirty diapers in there expecting them to neatly flush away. I'm talking 2 squares. 4 flushes. Our new toilet doesn't run....it flushes and fills in all of about 8 seconds. It's amazing. I didn't know such technology existed. It feels like such a luxury. And David is considering doing the sink tomorrow as well! Imagine that - hot water? It's been about a year....and our current sink is from about 1940 and has two faucets - one hot and one cold. I hate that. It's been so much less stressful without having to worry about the hot water, actually. In the mornings I feel like I'm living back in the 1800s, when on really cold mornings they had to crack the ice in the basin and splash icy water on their faces to freshen up. It's outrageous.
All this to say, it's great living in a house that is constantly in process. Okay...it's not always great. But at least we are kept on our toes. And we experience a tangible daily hope that I don't know I would if I were living in my dream 5 bedroom 3 1/2 bathroom home with a huge backyard and a playroom. I'll trade hope for the mansion someday. But for now I'll stick with our little suburban adventure.

OCTOBER??
Dear God - what has happened?
School has started - we're back to our routine ...
6 30 am mom up coffee lunches work
7 00 am dad in shower Sullivan up breakfast drop off
4 00 pm mom pick-up dinner prep temper tantrum
6 00 pm dinner temper tantrum
7 30 pm bedtime for Sullivan

It's so awesome.(note the sarcasm) The sameness of it all gets a little old, but nice weekends have become so much nicer.
A few friends out there understand the pain of the working mother - the hats, the spreading thin. You have these roles - none of which feel very successful. Nighttimes are managing temper tantrums because your child is tired from a Long day at school. I don't even see him in the mornings - I leave too early, but also if I were around when he was up in the morning and he watched me leave, I don't know....he would go nuts.
It's easy to complain. So let me say that I really do love what I do. For the most part our time with Sullivan has become more precious and more sweet and more intentional. I appreciate it all so much more. And I really do love my job as well - it's really fun. It would just be more fun if I could cart around my two year old. I have a large closet in my room that his pack-and-play would definitely fit in. Naptime!

I actually feel like there's a lot on my heart these days. It's going to be a long year - surgery #3 is coming up - and again, it is so hard to describe what a parent feels. I used to say that suffering was all relative - you know, open heart surgery ... ear infection ... nobody likes to watch their child suffer. But I take that back. It's not relative. I would take almost anything over what he has to go through. Allergies? Bring them on. Bad cough? Yes please. The list goes on.
Listening to people talk about their healthy kids is old....(sorry - it just is).
The list of wishes is so long.
So life is full of fear. At the same time, it's so full of faith too. And waiting. And trusting that this too will shape and teach and open our hearts. I know that Sullivan will be a more understanding, more empathetic, more compassionate man because of his suffering. I hope that I will become a more patient, trusting, and loving woman, wife and mother as a result of all this.
Back when he was born I had a very brief moment of vulnerability which has since been replaced with a permenant lump in my throat. People wonder why I have avoided attending church like the plague and really it's just because it does something to me - it taps into a part of my heart that gives me great fear. I'm not sure that I'll ever feel ready to open that part of myself up, but I'm not sure that it's in my power to control the timing.

Who knows what I'm talking about. I'm watching the Phillies, drinking whiskey (!), and feeling cozy on this chilly October night. It's in there somewhere.

We celebrated 5 years of marriage this weekend! And what a 5 years they have been....marked by some very distinct chapters thus far.

At a friends' wedding recently, upon hearing their vows - promising to love each other no matter what, we both had a similar reaction..."HA - just you wait....you think it's so easy now. Just you wait..." Such cynics after only 5 years.
And now thinking about it, it's really the hard stuff that brings all the beauty and the best parts of being in a relationship. So do you hope for the hard stuff? I don't think so - who doesn't want life to be happy-go-lucky? A white picket fence, no worries about finances, healthy families....that sounds good. But to wish that the hard stuff hadn't happened is really a waste of time. I guess it just is what it is. And we are more of who we are supposed to be because of it. Slightly refined, but with much more to go, I'm sorry to say.

Anyway, summer vacation has begun, and with 65 days left, I'm feeling pretty good. We had an amazing night at a new restaurant in Philly last night and as we drank our white wine and ate our roasted golden beets, foie gras, black sable, mackerel, cobbler, and bread pudding, who could complain about anything? Oh yeah, and the world's two most perfect cocktails. (French 75 and Sazerac...yum)

In about an hour we're off to celebrate a nephew's 3rd birthday with friends and nearly all of our family....things are looking up. Who's up for brunch next week??

Philly News

So my kids come into school every morning with all kinds of news....
"I watched a movie last night."
"I played with my dog this morning."
"I saw my uncle at the zoo."

And today's news?
"Three kids on my block were killed."

HUH? I had heard about this sad sad news, but I didn't exactly realize that it happened in our area. It happened outside of a few of my kids' homes.

The saddest part, actually, was how normal about it they all were. Like it was no different from the uncle at the zoo or the dog at home.
Having my own son, I can't imagine having to grow up in a place where things like this happen and it's just a part of where you're from.
It's days like this.....
Part of what's hard about being a working mom in this environment is that I spend so much emotional energy on other people's children and feel sometimes like my own child gets my left-overs. Of course, I know that's not true, but reality is that my son is really lucky to have two parents and an extended family who love him, keep him safe and clean and fed, and who would do anything for him. There's a part of me that thinks his little gift right now to the world is his mommy's heart for other kids. Does that make sense? Of course it might take years of therapy to get over his mom ditching him in daycare full-time, but I don't think he doubts our love for him so I'm not too concerned about it.

Two Years Old

Two years ago, on a stormy blue-mooned night, little Sullivan Lowing came into the world!
Technically it was two years and one day, because he was born at 6am after the stormy and blue-mooned night. Anyway, point is, he's two today. I hate bragging about my child, so here is a short and abbreviated list of all the things that are awesome about him.
1. He actually has recently started to make me laugh. He makes up weird games about milk and stuff....it's hilarious.
2. He says, "Hi," to everybody. Literally, everybody. The kid has love for all - doesn't matter their age, race, sex....how smelly they are. Sometimes I confess that I steer him away from creepy looking old dudes, but he really does just love people.
3. His days are pretty much just him talking all day. He says all 60some words that he knows over and over and over. A 14 hour recitation of his own personal dictionary.
4. We toast before dinner. He likes to "cheers." So we say something like, "To Sullivan!" and he says, "Cheers," and clinks glasses and then takes a big swig of his milk.
5. Sullivan likes to clean up messes. Sometimes I'll put some mail/trash on the floor on purpose and he runs right over to put it all in the garbage can.

Anyway, that's our two-year old. I have lots of sappy sad things that might make you cry, but I'm keeping those things to myself tonight.

Bedtime Musings

So, you know, I've been teaching in Philly for the past school year. Now, I've had significant experience, compared to some, teaching and working with kids in an inner-city setting and there's something that really disturbs me about the SD's 'attitude' or philosophy about what an effective teacher looks like. Literally looks like.
When did we sacrifice competence? Lord knows I've seen plenty of crappy teachers both white and otherwise. I'm not sure when having a 51% minority teacher rate as a goal became a good thing, or an admirable achievement. Wouldn't it be an improvement to find good, passionate, loyal educators who want to learn and do better regardless of what they look like or where they grew up? Look. I get it....I'll be the first to admit that our educational system favors one socioeconomic class over another. That the challenges my kids face at only 5 and 6 years old would be enough to put me in bed for a good 9 months doped up on prozac or something. And these kids come in every day....it's not an easy road, for sure. But to say that a child would learn better from a teacher who physically resembles them? How about just to have a teacher that actually cares about you? How about a teacher who gives you a hug in the morning because there's nobody else who will?? How about a teacher who encourages to do better than is expected? I'm just saying that if the SD spent a little more time and money invested in quality teachers...I don't know. It just seems counter-productive. Give me $500,000.00 a year and I'll come up with some awesome ideas as well. And my kids don't have pencils or any more paper to write on? Puh-lease. Just another cog....
As you see, this is my new soap-box. And here is my solution.
1. Parent education. There are like, two things parents could do to help their kids significantly. Read to them, put them to bed on time. Done.
2. Invest in early education. Basic literacy skills are so important. Unfortunately, the SD doesn't appear to care all that much unless a kid is in a testing year. And trust me from experience, it's easier to teach a kindergartner how to read than it is to teach a 3rd grader.
3. Spend a little time letting teachers know that they are valuable. And no...asking me to make a dish to bring in to a teacher appreciation potluck doesn't suffice. And neither does a lame memo. Treat our time like it's valuable. Give us the training and encouragement to do what we've been hired to do.

That's it. Where's my big old salary and my fancy Mercedes? Let's go, people...enough with the band-aids and the excuses and the scape-goats. Let's actually get something done for a change!

Confession:
I hate hearing other people 'brag' about their kids and I try to fly under the radar when it comes to my own.
That being said....
S is so cute these days. Coming into such a sweet age. He's come such a long way....those days in the ICU seem far far away. (although they are currently creeping up on us all too quickly again.)
My son loves to read. I always loved to read. Although in the past, oh, decade I've only been in the mood to read books I've already read. His two favorite stories these days are, "Are You My Mother?" and "Green Eggs and Ham."
In the mother book, he loves to point out the bird and the other animals, he makes noises along with the 'Snort,' and there's a certain point in the story when he starts to get really sad....just about when the baby bird has given up hope that his mommy will be found.
And in the 'Ham' book, he love to finish the sentences.
For all that's crazy about him, he absolutely loves his stories. He'll sit for a good 30-40 minutes all snuggled up in the lap, requesting his favorites by title. "Jamberry" is the blueberry book. "Jesus" is the Jesus Loves Me book. "Bus" is the "Jesus Is With Me" song. He laughs and names animals, points to his favorite parts....he even likes to read the stories back to you.
Full-time working mom kind of stinks...although we're flying to California in less than two weeks over my spring-break so there's a perk...but these little moments keep you going for sure. Not even 3 months until summer!!

Valentine's Resolutions

Forget New Year's Resolutions....
1. I will not wear over-sized sweatshirts from my husband's college days.
2. I got rid of all underwear and socks that have holes. Not cute. Who wants to look at big toes poking through an old sock??
3. One night a week, we will feed sullivan early and stick the kid in bed so that we can do our own thing. Wine, candles, and 20 month old don't mix so well.
4. I am thinking about not watching the Bachelor anymore. It's really kind of crappy and is TWO hours long. He hates it...I might compromise on this one. (Although with DVR it turns out to run about 75-90 minutes.
5. Keep letting him do the grocery shopping. This one I'm willing to relinquish happily.
6. Try to make the bed every morning. It's just better for mental health.
7. Make it a goal to get through #3 without talking about said child.
8. I'm considering taking longer showers...sometimes late in the day. We are somehow not paying a water bill, so until that starts coming in the mail I better milk it for all it's worth.
9. Breakfast. I would like to start enjoying it. Again, a lot can be said for mental health.
10. Get more babysitters. Go to the movies more.

This Valentine's Day, I'm sitting with one of my favorite men, while the other helps my Grandma and parents move furniture into her new living quarters.
Oh boy...this life.
It's so hard to not complain...I have to make a painfully conscious effort about every 10 minutes to NOT let something negative escape my lips. That's half the battle, right?
So this morning has been a sweet taste of life before full-time work. French toast, some errands...cuddling under a big warm blanket while Van watches a wild animal video and mom checks all the computer stuff. Maybe someday again.
Happy President's Day!

I was sitting in traffic this evening and was paused in the middle of an intersection, and when I looked at the car facing me (we were next to each other) I saw an old friend waving! We've actually run across paths in many random places in the past few months, in fact, our sons attend the same day-care.
Anyway, it made me remember the trip David and I took to Prague two years ago, now...a few months before the birth of our son. We were standing in line at the Tesco and there was a group of younger girls in front of us, with their pile of (much improved from when we were there) groceries...talking excitedly about the dinner they were planning back in their apartment.

Back in 1999(!) I was living in Prague with the above friend and another of our friends, and I remembered that feeling and how it was a feeling I always wanted to have again. Young, excited... we were three girls bumming around an ancient city the best we knew how. There were a few rough spots, but there was so much laughter and fun ... we took every opportunity to have an adventure (most of which ended up somehow with a long walk through scary woods). Waking up in the dark to see the sunrise over the Charles Bridge, finding our hotel in Paris in the early morning with no map...no nothing. Lots of yummy food. Jumping out of a bus in Germany to load up on Pringles. Waking up in the middle of a blizzard in the Alps, getting ready for a Sound of Music tour. Flashing Scots. Want me to go on?
There's a part of me...my soul...that still remains there. I think I'm ready to find her again.

Here's what I think.
The School District of Philadelphia spends too much time and energy on upper grades. I say, call the next 5-8 years a wash and focus energy on grades K-2. Don't you think that with a more solid foundation, inevitably things might improve? Our school is a perfect example of everything that's wrong with city education.
Test scores are low. (Testing starts in 3rd grade) Every year, the school spends months playing catch up with the older grades. As a kindergarten teacher, I can testify that we are completely ignored. Every once in a while someone will pop in unexpectedly, but for the most part? I could really be doing just about anything I wanted with the kids in my class. Set up a tee-shirt factory, for example, or get the kids knitting booties to sell on Etsy. The possibilities are endless.

I'll be honest. I thought Kindergarten was a joke. I had been doing the test prep catch up game in third grade prior to my current placement, and I can now see the real problem. Without a foundation in literacy, primarily, what hope is there? My principal commented on my last report cards, that I too many students on a level "A" and that I should move them up to a level "B". Huh? I asked, "Shouldn't the grades reflect their actual level? Those kids aren't "B" readers yet." I got no answer. And then realized that thanks to No Child Left Behind, one of Bush's so called legacies, low numbers equal no money. Awesome. And so hundreds of children are shoveled on up regardless of what they actually need.
I, a former disdainer of Kindergarten (and early childhood educators in general, sorry) am now thinking it's time to go get a Master's degree and get something done.