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Archives from 2002-2006

We keep thinking about moving, in a vague sort of way that mostly involves looking at tons of MLS listings and learning more and more about what terms are instant red flags (“cozy,” “handyman’s dream”, “perfect MIL/rental opportunity!”). It’s not that we’re totally unhappy with our current house or yearn for the wonderful experience of trying to sell it, but we keep wondering if this might be one of those golden times to buy — to take advantage of the market and get into something that will accrue more value over the years than our current home will. Would that be the right thing for us to do? I have no answer to that question, really, only the idea that if we saw something really great, it would be definitely worth our while to investigate, so we should at least be keeping an eye on what’s out there right now.

With regards to location I’m trying to balance all these different factors like our commutes, the quality, availability, and cost of daycare in whatever location we end up in, the fact that both of us are reluctant to find new gyms, and the need for a drive-through Starbucks within at least one (1) mile. Oh, and schools. Right: SCHOOLS.

Everyone I talk to seems highly opinionated about schools, and I feel like a total slacker parent because I have no real idea how to judge the value of a school aside from whether or not it is actively engulfed in flames and/or littered with needles. I mean, I know there are websites where you can see student/teacher ratios and WASL scores and things like that, but is that all people are going on? Is there some secret body of knowledge that I am missing? What makes a school good? What makes a school bad?

I guess the Responsible Forward-Thinking Thing to Do when it comes to moving involves picking your desired schools first, then branching outward to find houses that are within the right district or whatever, but I’m not even sure how to go about doing this. Like, choose schools with the highest test scores? Because that somehow ENSURES your kid is going to be smart, or something?

The school thing makes me a little defensive, I guess, because there’s always going to be a school that’s “better” than the one your kid is going to, you know? A while back I had someone criticize the schools our kids will be going to if we don’t move and I was like, huh. I totally didn’t realize I should be freaking out about this, but maybe that’s because one of my kids still gets scared by a cartoon elephant on Curious George while the other routinely chokes on pine needles he eats off the floor, so right now it’s kind of hard for me to imagine a 5% test score difference having a massive impact on their intellectual future.

What do you think? Do you have a School Strategy, or do you figure the one that’s closest to your house will do just fine, or what?

Last Sunday at the Big Climb I saw hundreds of people wearing bright yellow shirts that read Climbing for Caleb. They were part of a team raising money in Caleb Thornstein’s name, and every t-shirt included a graphic of the little boy’s face. Before JB and I started our own climb we saw Caleb in person, being toted in his grandather’s arms, his lovely calm face as recognizable as a celebrity’s. People milled around, yellow everywhere. I tried not to cry.

There were so many people smiling and offering encouragement on that day. Volunteers everywhere, pointing out where to check in, where the bathrooms were, where to line up. When our start time was called and all of us 11:15 climbers began walking to the starting point, people cheered and clapped and swung plastic noisemakers in loud clattering circles. We were released in three-second increments and jogged across the outside of the building before entering the stairwell, and every single person who crossed that entryway passed a man with his hand outstretched. He stood there smiling and saying “Good luck!” over and over, as each person slapped his palm.

In the stairwell we wound upwards and everyone’s breathing got louder and soon there were more volunteers waiting for us with small paper cups of water and heartening words. “Great job,” they said, and “You’re doing awesome!” and I don’t know how many climbers they had watched puff on by but no one looked bored or distracted. They stood and adjusted air blowers so cool breezes rushed over the sweaty panting people hiking up and up and up and they helped find a seat for those who needed to take a break.

Near the top they told us that we were almost there. Just a few more flights. Soon there was music playing and you could hear shouts from the volunteers at the top. And when we came staggering through that last door, cheers and applause. For all of us, one after another, and it didn’t seem silly or dumb or embarrassing, those strangers clapping for me felt like what I imagine it feels like to believe you are loved by God.

I’ve been feeling scratchy and restless lately, having a cyclical bout of vague dissatisfaction and that self-absorbed oh what is it all about feeling and you know, I think the answer is so much more simple than I make it out to be. It’s about connections. It’s about being the person clapping, it’s about being the person being clapped for. It’s about the yellow shirts. My aunt is going through a hard time and there are people standing by and holding out their hands to her and that’s what it’s all about.

I don’t want to be here alone, I don’t want to be skating along the surfaces, and I guess maybe it’s about choosing not to be.

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