Im Running Away with Gail

Dear Future Stella,

Current Stella has been getting hives every morning for the past couple of weeks. The hives appear on one part of her body, stay for about 15 minutes, and then vanish. Its so bizarre. Google isn’t very helpful and her doctor’s appointment isn’t until next week. The only things that happen every morning without fail are:

*she eats a waffle with strawberry jelly
*she plays with the both dogs (Phyllis and Gail)
*she brushes her teeth

Every other thing that happens in the morning is completely variable, but the above mentioned 3 things happen no matter what. Our older dog, Phyllis, who we have had since before you were born, is most likely hypoallergenic. Current Stella has had waffles with strawberry jelly for breakfast for years and she has been brushing her teeth for even longer. The only logical suspect is our new puppy, Gail, who I’m ridiculously obsessed with.

With this knowledge, I think the only responsible decision is for me to run away with Gail. We are in love, we can’t get enough of each other and I think we belong on a beach, staring into each other’s eyes for the rest of eternity. We complete each other, and we have so much in common. She’s obviously making Current Stella break out in hives, which isn’t fair for anyone. It may sound harsh, but if I run away with Gail then Current Stella would at least have her dad and Phyllis. If we get rid of Gail then that poor dog won’t have anyone. Gail is basically perfect- everything I have ever wanted in a life partner and then some.

I really tried to do the right thing by explaining to Gail that we couldn’t keep her if we found out that our only child was allergic to her. Gail just gave me this face

IMG_1523

So you get it, right? Nobody says no to that face. Only a total delusional person could look at that face and say, “Yup, we have to get rid of you.” Im really glad you understand.

I won’t buy our tickets to the Maldives just yet, I will wait for the doctor to confirm what I pretty much already know. That being said, I have been wrong before. When you were a newborn I was fairly certain something really sharp must have been lodged in your body somewhere, based on the frequency in which you felt the need to cry. Turns out, thats just what babies do. Then, there was the time I was convinced you were deaf- why else would you completely ignore my every “no”?

While we wait for the doctor to tell us what is happening with Current Stella, Gail and I are both going to do a juice cleanse for bikini reasons.

Future Stella, I love you. Current Stella, guess what? You actually got into our first choice Kindergarten!!!!! We found out today. Phew. I asked you if you knew what a uniform is (because the school that you will be going to makes you wear one) and you answered very confidently that you did. I asked you what it is and you said that its when you have a sharp horn coming out of your forehead. You clearly thought I said unicorn and so I think that maybe you believe that you will be a unicorn next year….

This Won’t Be The Last Time You Will Be Told You’re Too Young

Dear Future Stella,

We received all the letters today from the schools we applied to for next year. It was mostly unanimous that the schools felt you would benefit from an extra year of preschool and that you should try again next year and enter Kindergarten as a 6 year old. This might seem to some as bad news but it’s really not.

I didn’t really try to get pregnant with you, it just sort of happened. Your dad and I loosely talked about it in the way one might say, “I would love to go to Italy one day.” The idea of being parents sounded fabulous, but neither one of us had a “ticking clock” so to speak. Don’t get me wrong, I know how babies are made and what precautions one would need to take to prevent it. I guess I was just blasé about the whole thing, so when I peed on a stick on Halloween (dressed as a flamingo) and found out I was pregnant, I was definitely surprised. It felt like such bad timing for so many reasons- I was still building a clientele at my salon and maternity leave would for sure kill that. We hadn’t been to Italy yet. We didn’t own our home. I had this thing coming up in a few weeks that I was excited to be drunk at. The irony of all of that was none of those things mattered at all in the grand scheme of things. The one “timing” issue I should have been freaking out about was the fact that you were going to be a summer birthday. Getting into private schools in San Francisco with a summer birthday is like trying to make a right hand turn from the far left lane. It’s not impossible, but if the other cars in your way don’t drive a specfic exact way, then there is a high chance you will have to circle the block and try again later. 

With a summer birthday you were either going to be the youngest in your class or the oldest. The cutoff is Aug. 1 and your birthday is July 19th, meaning you make the cut off by 12 days. Just because you make the cut off doesn’t mean you will be admitted, the schools evaluate you to see if you are ready, both individually and in a group. After that, other considerations are taken into account. They start building a classroom based on their automatically accepted children (mainly siblings of current students, legacies and other “shoe-in” candidates). After that they try to create balance and diversity. They don’t want too many of any one thing in each class. So, some years they might need a young summer birthday girl with a bad ass personality, blonde hair and delicious green eyes, other years (like this one apparently) they have already met that quota with the “shoe-ins.” At that point the schools have 3 options. They could tell us 

“no” (bad)

“Waitlist” (only slightly better but given your obvious niche of a summer birthday it’s unlikely you would ever get off said list) 

“too young” (which generally means we really like you but please wait until next year when you won’t be such a strange commodity that we can only have 1 of in each class). 

You got mostly “too young” letters which is an open and welcome invitation to try again next year. You did, though, get 2 Waitlist letters. The first one is from a sweet school that we liked but not enough to pursue and never know what the other schools might have said next year. The second was actually one of our top choices for you. This school has a later cut off than the rest of the schools which sort of explains why you didn’t get “too young” from them. We like this school enough to remain on the Waitlist and see what happens.

So at this point two things will happen. The most likely is that you will do the TK program at your current preschool. Take the year to mature, learn some more shit and then apply again next year to all the schools that said you were too young. The second, is that somehow, someway,  you will get off the Waitlist at a wonderful school and start Kindergarten next year. 

Your dad and I will be thrilled either way. Mostly because you would thrive doing either one and everything happens for a reason. 

With that being said, its going to suck for you either way. If you are the youngest in your class then all of your friends will get to drive and buy cigarettes before you. Also, if the current literature is true, then you will never excel at sports or academics. If you are the oldest in your class, you will get boobs before everyone and get to drink at bars before your classmates but you will look the worst at your reunions. Good luck my Summer Birthday.

This morning I was a nervous wreck waiting to get the letters but you were twirling your way to the bus stop. It’s one of the many times you have inspired and grounded me. 





Future Stella, I love you. Current Stella, tonight you told me that you love night time because you love going to bed because it’s so cozy in your bed and that you want to sleep in all morning tomorrow. I felt so much love for you in this moment that it’s hard to actually describe. Please follow through. 

Love,

Mom

Just When I Thought it Couldn’t Get Any Worse

Dear Future Stella,

So as you know, today  I was supposed to find out where Current Stella would be getting suspended from soon (a.k.a Kindergarten). I had to work all day so I left your dad the very important job of getting the mail and calling me immediately at work on our secret emergency phone line so I could take over from there. He had one job, Future Stella, one job. 

First of all, I got a text, not a call. One job. Second, the text said that the mail came but no letters were there-  just some bills and my renewed cosmetology license. Obviously this is all his fault. Did he chase the mailman and ask him to check again? Of course not. Did he call all the schools and inquire? Nope. Did he spend the rest of his day pacing around the house, calling the postal service to see if there is any way we could somehow get access to tomorrow’s mail? No, he did not. One job. 

So basically I have to wait until tomorrow to find out because your Dad couldn’t handle his one job. Then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse…..

My coworker told me today that Disney announced that they are making Frozen II. Just kick me while I’m down Elsa. I would send Stella to the worst school in the city in exchange for that not to happen. I just can’t. 

Future Stella, I love you. Current Stella, I have no idea what school you are going to (if any) but I am probably going to tell you that Elsa murders Anna in the sequel and that it’s really scary. 

Love,

Mom

How I Deal With Stress

Dear Future Stella,

I have spent all 4 1/2 years of Current Stella’s life telling myself I wouldn’t be the Mom that stresses about getting her into Kindergarten. *Fun fact, major tangent here, but did you know that up until very recently I actually thought it was spelled Kindergarden with a D. Mainly because autocorrect doesn’t seem to mind that version, and that’s exactly how it sounds AND I just pictured a bunch of small children blossoming in a garden so that word made more sense to me. Anyway, I can almost guarantee I spelled it wrong on most of your applications. I’m hoping they will see it as some kind of diversity thing where a parent made it to 30 years old without knowing how to spell that word correctly so their kid really deserves a better shot at education. Ok, back to the real story.

Every mom in San Francisco warns you about the stress of getting into Kindergarten. Then they continue by saying everything always works out and not to stress about it. That is basically the equivalent of telling a young person to enjoy being in a bathing suit or advising a 5 year old child on the playground to appreciate their hair because one day it might turn grey. It’s the kind of advice I despise because such epiphanys can only be had once you have made it to the other side. It’s a fact. So yes, I told myself not to stress out and that everything happens for a reason and bla bla bla. We find out tomorrow where you got accepted, if anywhere, and I really tried to keep perspective.  In reality I have like 8 new zits, I scream at the dogs for needing to go to the bathroom and tonight I made Current Stella go to bed an hour early. I do this by adjusting the clock on the microwave and then showing it to her. She falls for it every time because she is so naive and loves the structure of a bedtime. If the microwave says its 8pm, it must be 8pm.

 *fun fact: our microwave actually hasn’t been adjusted since daylight savings so I actually had to move it ahead 2 hours to trick you, so now instead of being an hour behind its now an hour ahead. I’m not sure it is ever the right time. Ugh, do you even have a microwave? They are bad, right? I knew it.

I hate the feeling of stress and it’s not often I am consumed with it. I would go as far as to say that I have a below average amount of stress in my life. I have a very enjoyable job that rarely creates stress, I only have one child and a very hands-on husband. I don’t commute, my extended family is relatively normal, my health is good, and we always manage to pay our rent so the feeling of stress is actually foreign to me and I despise it. 

Tonight I have the kind of stress that consumes you. I cannot think of anything else. I might not get down on the ground with Current Stella and play Barbies with her, or pack her elaborate lunches, or sing silly songs but I care an insane amount about what kind of education she will receive. I truly don’t care if she is a genius, although I hope she learns how to spell kindergarten before me, I just want her to love school and love learning. I want her to meet insanely awesome friends who inspire her to be unique and strong and who support her on whoever she chooses to be. This next school will literally be the backdrop to her childhood. So yes, I’m totally stressed out. 

There are a few things I can do to distract me from my stress, because let’s me honest, this stress won’t go away until the letters come, but I needed to find something to totally make me escape. The things that usually work for me are:

1) Getting shit faced wasted (not an option because I work tomorrow).

2) That sweet spot when you are so obsessed with a book that your husband could tell you that he is leaving you for your best friend and you are like, “Can we talk about this later? This book is getting intense.” (Also, not an option because I’m on page 3 of my current book, so nowhere near sweet spot).

3) Wild passionate sex. As much as I would love to pretend this is the method I picked tonight so I could elaborate on this to thoroughly gross you out, that would be lying. 

4) Cooking. I don’t know what it is about this chore that I find glorious but I’m legitimately obsessed with it. I like it even more when I get to do it with your dad (by do it, I mean cook, you sicko). When I’m cooking, I’m momentarily lost in what I’m doing and old stresses are replaced with new stresses, things like, “Oh, that’s right, silverware can’t go in the microwave!” 

Lately, we have been using this awesome recipe/ingredient company called Blue Apron. Every week they deliver 3 recipes with all of the ingredients to make them. The food is delicious and fun to make and totally stress free. You probably don’t eat food in 2035, but rather take food pills or drink food water. Maybe you plug yourself into an IV to receive nutrients? Maybe you have gone the other direction and everyone eats raw animals? I have no idea, but in 2015 Blue Apron is revolutionary, if for no other reason that it can de-stress me long enough to not finish my thoughts about if you don’t get into any kindergarten how are you ever going to learn how spell kindergarten? 



Look how easy and fun it is to cook with Blue Apron! So interesting and distracting. Yes, we drink Stella Artois beer. No, you were not named after the beer, although that’s a way better story than the truth, which is that you were named after your Dad’s Grandma, who was an amazingly strong woman that will be forever missed. 

So tonight we cooked Pork Dan Dan Noodles and drank Stella Artois beer and your dad I played eachother on Trivia Crack on our phones while in the same room. 

I know I can’t do anything right this moment to change what the letters will say tomorrow. That doesn’t mean I can’t obsess over what I could have done to improve what those letters might say. I will fall asleep thinking about, wake up sweating about it and work all day consumed by it. As much as I hate the feeling of stress, I will gladly feel anything unpleasant if it might improve your life. 

Future Stella, I love you. Current Stella, I’m going to apologize, in advance, for my behavior tomorrow. It’s coming from a very deep love that is mixed with an insane competitive drive that I never seemed to find a healthy outlet for (unless you count Trivia Crack).

*disclaimer*

It just occurred to me that I name dropped Blue Apron and Stella Artois.Trust me when I say,this post isn’t sponsored, nor would they be proud of this product placement. 

Also, yesterday a very funny blogger named onlybadchi nominated me for a challenge that I can’t commit to, but I think her site is fantastic so I think you should check it out.

http://onlybadchi.wordpress.com

The Time I Had to Submit a Photo of You to a Potential Kindergarten

Dear Future Stella,

Today one of the schools we are applying to for next year called me and asked me to email her a photo of you, preferably just of your face. Oh goodie, I am so relieved their decision is going to come down to looks. For a minute there, I thought we were going to be judged on our characters, morality and our uniqueness. We would have been screwed! However, if its a cute girl with a pretty face they want, then you have this in the bag sweetie. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. Not that anyone would, you are told you are beautiful like 100 times a week. 

I started flipping through my photos of you on my phone to pick the very best one and I soon realized that I could totally screw you if I wanted to.  For instance, I can’t imagine the school would be excited if I sent them this photo

Nevermind  that you were just showing me a cut on your finger, I wouldn’t share that detail with them. No, instead I would include a caption that apologized for the lewd gesture and say that lately it’s been hard to capture a photo without you doing this to the camera. Hopefully at school she can refrain….

Or I could have sent them this one.

Personally, the most offensive thing about this picture is your chipped nail polish. Have I not taught you anything? Don’t tell me you also forgot the names of all the Kardashians too. This next photo is a real gem.

I would go with no caption with this one, you know, for maximum impact.

Ah, and then there is this next one 



Although this is clearly a photo of you on Halloween, I would make it abundantly clear that this is an every day occurrence. I would take this time to mention that we take the concept of a “pack family” very seriously.

It would be quite rewarding to send this photo. 



This is a great way to express our excitement for the potential opportunity to get you in a uniform.

In reality, here were the two photos I was considering sending





Readers, which do you think I should send? 

Future Stella, I love you. Current Stella, you are NOT just a pretty face. You are the nicest, sweetest girl on the planet and any school would be thrilled to have you. 

Love,

Mom