Brrrr

So, Andy had his first "snow day". His preschool teacher called to cancel because of the wind chill, which makes the temperature feel about 11 below, even though it's only -1. At least that's what Accuweather.com tells me.

Cassandra says she forgets what these temperatures feel like, even though she spent several winters in Chicago. To refresh her memory, here's my best description: when the wind is whipping your face with a sting that brings tears to your eyes, climbing into your frozen car feels like stepping into a warm sauna. It's that %$#@ing cold.

And yet, two of my friends here, one from Iowa and the other from Minnesota, tell me this is really nothing. I'll take their word for it, those two who save their bitching for more important matters, like potty training. ("Are you done whining about the cold now, because I want to tell you how my daughter left a turd for me on the stairs.")

Now you know why I like the gal from Iowa, because she drops words like "turd" into the conversation without a shred of embarrassment. The Minnesotan woman, her speech is less colorful, but I love the things she gets me to think about. Although I'd heard of the Montessori Method of education, her enthusiasm for it inspired me to learn more. Mike and I both read up on Montessori, and are now convinced this approach meshes with our own ideals, and seems to be an environment Andy would thrive in.

It's a shame that the local Montessori public charter can only espouse a small part of the philosophy. They claim to be 30% Montessori. Sadly, the system of grades and high stakes testing is incompatible with the crux of Montessori: that of the child's individuality and freedom.