Desperately Seeking Emily

       Where, oh where, has Emily gone?  She is not posting much.  She is not commenting much.  Is she even reading?

        Emily, if you are wondering, is applying to preschools.  Zachary is three, and this is the third time I have had to research and apply to preschools.  The first time, I spent days and weeks researching and visiting schools in Philadelphia that he never attended because we moved to London.  The second time, I scrambled frantically to visit preschools in London while we were still getting over jetlag and I was 7 months pregnant.  I could not apply in advance because we did not know where we would be living until a few weeks before the move (that’s how the rental market here works).  I sighed a huge sigh of relief when a few of the schools still had spaces.

          Now, we are moving mid-school-year.  He will probably miss a few months of preschool this year, but I am sure we will find a summer camp (note to self: find summer camp).  Many of the preschools have already finished accepting applications for September 2008.  Yet, here I am, oceans and continents away, calling at nine AM Pacific (which is 5 PM GMT, so the kids are busy tearing the heads off chickens or mixing the trash and recycling together while I am on the phone), hoping to find people actually in the office in the week between Christmas and New Years.  Then, we fill out applications.  Last night found me writing essays at 11 o’clock at night.  Yes, I was writing essays for my three-year-old and my seventeen-month-old to get into preschool.

          Some of you have asked how long a move this one is.  Technically, it is a permanent move.  The move to London was only two years, and we have an expiring visa to prove it.  L.A. is permanent, which means we live there indefinitely.  In reality, we can probably count on at least five years.  Which means I need to take the schools seriously this time, because this will be Zachary’s last and Benjamin’s only preschool.

          So, where is Emily?  She is reading as much as she can, and she promises she will indeed get to all of your posts (both Ashers had great Christmases, the Poo is sick, Flutter is marrying into a very nice family, De has a broad-winged hawk in the oak tree — see, I am reading).  But, she is not commenting, because that would take time away from writing her application essays, a job she thought she had finished when she got into grad school the last time.