Three pronged attack.

Today I tried to visit another preschool. Because I’ve been speaking many, many people and making many, many appointments, I got confused about where this particular school is located and I ended up on this dead-end residential street with no way to get the correct address. I had the director’s phone number and I left a garbled, apologetic message about being confused and unable to make the meeting and she didn’t call me back. I wasn’t impressed with this school for a bunch of reasons, so I think I’m not going to bother rescheduling.

Edda’s IEP is going well I think. It’s like I’m writing a thesis again. I’m trying to envision an educational program that’s appropriate for her – basically what I want the school to work on for the next year. It sounds simple, but it’s basically convincing the school district to spend money on your child and it’s hard because there, of course, is a limit on the total budget. Of course, what I’d really want is for Edda to be able to do everything a typical 3 year old can do and forget about this IEP, but that’s how it goes.

And we are looking for a house. I liked 3 of the real estate agents who were hosting open houses on Sunday. We are going through the Buying Houses for Dummies book and doing all the things that they suggest even though I must pick up the phone and ask perfectly good strangers for answers. We asked a million questions to 3 agents, then asking for references from the agents and then asking those people a bunch of questions.

For dinner tonight, we BBQed indoors:


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