SEPTEMBER

It was the first day of school for my chicklets today.  Tigger has a new swagger in her step, because
by matriculating to the 4^th grade, she has entered the “Upper
Division” of her Preschool-8^th Grade school.  The big shock of the day: 4^th
graders only get two recess periods per day, rather than the three per day
she’s accustomed to.  I’m not sure I
approve of this recess down-sizing.  Big
kids need to run around too, although, in truth, Tigger is more inclined to
spend her recess time kibitzing with her pals. 
I guess they are practicing for their grown-up visits to restaurant
bathrooms together.

Little Bit has a reason to swagger too, because she’s a  Kindergarten kid.  Her big shock of the day: no nap time.  Not that she ever slept during nap time, but
she appreciated the chance to lie down on a vinyl-covered mat and snuggle up
with the blankie that she still plans to carry in her backpack, naptime or no
naptime.  She may be a big kid now, but
she still knows what’s really important.

Little Bit also had her first piano lesson yesterday.  Longtime readers may recall that she took
guitar lessons last year.  All I can say
about that is that guitar teachers have a very different outlook on life than
piano teachers do, and their list of priorities does not include “providing a
carefully sequenced and structured, age-appropriate introduction to music for
the next generation.”   

While my shy child could barely bring herself to speak to
the piano teacher she has known since she was a baby (because she’s Tigger’s
piano teacher too), she had so much fun practicing today it was hard to make
her stop. 

Tigger has joined the soccer team this year, which means
that now, at long last, after years of pretending, I have finally, truly
attained the title of “soccer mom.”  It
also means that we have to get up early Saturday morning to attend her first
game.  Playing soccer may be mentally and
physically healthier for her than watching Saturday morning cartoons, but then
again, a little Spongebob while one’s parents are sleeping in never hurt
anyone.

In other news, the big question here at the Rabbit
household: do we remodel the bathroom, or just move?  Both options are horrifying, of course, but
something must be done. 

Moving presents the possibility of having more space, and we
are pretty cramped here.  On the other
hand, I feel confident that my husband and children are more than equal to the
task of acquiring enough additional crap, I mean valued possessions, to make a
bigger house just as cramped.

Remodeling the upstairs bathroom offers the nightmare of
several months with the bam bam guys in our faces, followed by the pleasure of
having a nice bathroom in our small, cramped house. 

Moving offers the chance to acquire a bigger mortgage at a
higher interest rate. 

Remodeling means not packing anything but the contents of
the bathroom closet, and god knows that’s terrifying enough.

What to do, what to do.