Well, he was discussing and I was flailing my arms about wildly and dolphin noises were coming out of my beak.
There is dread.
There is fear.
All of which, by the way, I fully recognize, are #firstworldproblems.
Nonetheless, my husband and I differ in our parenting strategies, usually in mutually beneficial and complimentary ways, but sometimes in complete odds with each other.
And now comes the convergence.
They will be headed to school full-time with children who have been in daycare since day 1.
It's kinda like a SAHM moment of standardized testing.
And when we made the decision for me to be at home with my lovelies, we decided this because we thought it would be in the best interest of the children.
And while I know there are many ways in which my children have benefitted from my being at home with them, I also recognize that there are ways in which they are at a disadvantage heading into kindergarten.
There are certainly children who will be more disciplined and used to a full day of structured activity, and possibly more willing and ready to accept that discipline and structure from other adults. The day care child will already be used to his name and label put on every piece of clothing and item he walks out of the house with; kind of a signifier that not everyone is perfectly placed in this world to serve, entertain, know, and admire him.
But isn't that what we wanted? A sense of trust in the world and confidence in oneself to carry about in that world, just before we tear it down and explain that it is a terrible, horrific, and awful, dangerous place?
Yes, but the reading. The one-on-one time, the trying again when we fail the first time. The striving and competitive edge to succeed. The listening. The wiping of one's own ass. We are behind. We are undisciplined and chaotic. We are inconsistent. We are not scheduled within an inch of our lives.
We. are free.
And by *we*, I know I, in a large part, mean *me.* And I know that I am inconsistent with many things in my life, and chaotic, and unstructured and undisciplined. [I do wipe my own ass, mind you.] I recognize all of these flaws and in some ways look forward to a day when I will be back to work, pencil and lunch bag in hand, once again lulled into the security of a 9 to 5 workday and direct deposit.
But today is not that day. And in our alternate universe, we must enjoy the benefits of our freedom. I know not all stay-at-home-mommies are like me, running their kids around town to various playdates, activities and mayhem. Some of them are actually at home, God love 'em, organizing their lives and giving them rituals and time markers for their days. But that is not me. That is not my children. Yet.
I tried to explain to my husband that during the convergence, there will be ways in which our children will soar, and ways in which our children will fall behind. We have to be on board with our choices to date regardless of the immediate outcome when the mixing begins in kindergarten. There is no way to quantify or qualify what we (and by *we*, we both agree I primarily mean *I* since my contact time with the children has been significantly more than *we*) have accomplished by having me stay at home with them.
Well so then he tried to quantify and qualify what we have accomplished.
And by *we*, I mean *I*.
And when you start giving GRADES to your SAHM wife, you better be prepared for someone to cut your class and go smoke underneath the bleachers for the rest of the year.
Or, just, for someone to cut you.