Childcare in the Old Days

Hugo

A few days ago, Hugo (age 5) asked me to tell him what it was like in the old days, as I drove him and Jack to school. I was fighting sun glare off the snow, with part of my attention impatiently waiting for him to ask a question that made sense. He repeated it a couple of times, and I came up with an answer.

I told him when I was his age, I went to preschool too. But I didn’t stay all day long while my Mom and Dad worked. I had a babysitter who would take care of me every day after school until my parents came home from work around dinner time.

My kids love their school (day care) and I love it, too. But I’ve been considering what we might do when they are both in public school.

“When you and Jack are bigger, you might have a babysitter who takes care of you both after school, too,” I told him, as I pulled into a parking space at school.

“Can it be Grandma B?” he asked, though she lives about 3,000 miles away. I assured him that I would let her know that the position was open. (So! What do you think, Mom?)

Preschool reflections on death and resurrection

Trees do it

Trees do it

My son Hugo is four. He surprised me by his awareness and curiosity about death last fall. He seems pretty perceptive for a little guy, and sensitive – at least as far as how death would immediately affect him.  I was moved by his considerable fear when he hasn’t had much firsthand experience with loss. I’m still figuring out how to talk religion and philosophy with him, and I feel like I’m a little late on some things. So I broached the subject of Easter this week. Continue reading