Writing is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster and fling him to the public.

— Winston Churchill

I Need a New Reason to Binge

Do you remember a few weeks ago when I was lamenting about education and admitting the bits of sanity rolling through the tumble brush of my mind were riding away on a breeze? I was losing sleep and working diligently to drown in ice cream as I registered my son to begin a public school career even though I was desperate to keep him in Montessori. The waves of economic despair rippling through the world were saturating my wallet with uncertainty and committing to another year of tuition seemed like a fool’s financial planning.

I’m still uncertain; convinced that we’ve not yet seen the worst of a global economic storm, but when something makes sense in all the tiny regions where neurons ignite and it grips your heart and opens your eyes to something so much more important than fool’s planning, you make it work. You find a way. You dig under obstacles and you find a new microscope.

It’s with over-the-moon gratitude for stars aligning that I can report Aaron will continue in Montessori and he’ll begin his kindergarten year this fall exactly where he’s meant to be. It’s taken some scrupulous negotiations and an out-of-the-box approach, but sometimes the most unlikely scenarios are the most luminary resolutions.

Now, I need to find a new excuse for anxiety-induced ice cream binges. Suggestions?

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