It was January 20th when Scott picked up the keys to our apartment. On-campus family housing. West Village. Number 901. Three bedrooms. Cinderblock, basement, with huge windows that are at the perfect angle for everybody to peer in at us.
It’s not all bad. We see more of Scott, but he still gets more done. Betsy is working harder and to have to work is good for her. The kids are nicer; I think she’s genuinely happier here. She’s less silly. (I say the mold in the house was probably contributing to a yeast overgrowth - which we’re still working on - but things are definitely better.) She has friends at school and plenty of space to play when she’s home. That’s not to say we’re drama-free… and it’s hard to compare things clearly when you’re a bit of a participant in situations, but the drama is generally less than in Provo.
Without getting too bogged down in all of it (for the moment) there was plenty that upset her in her Franklin class, and I was never terribly impressed by her teacher – and neither was Betsy.
Avie seems to be at a spot where she can be relatively happy wherever she goes. What a gift. I envy it. At Franklin, she was really struggling with memorizing her addition facts in the required 60 seconds. This didn’t impress me either, as I know that Mrs. Anderton (Betsy’s 2nd grade teacher) actually made the pass-off sheets and included a written suggestion to start younger kids off with 90 seconds the first time through, then when kids had passed them off letting them do a second pass in 60 seconds. It was really starting to interfere with her self-concept.
Israel is enjoying the close playground. I’m thinking he has SPD, a yeast overgrowth, and PANS/PANDAS which probably all result from the mold in the Provo house.
Sam’s awake.
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