There are times when I will defend our local school district. Aaron is a product of that district, and had a (mostly) positive experience with it, and so I often make an effort to remember that when others bad mouth our district as being poor and not living up to the standards of surrounding districts.

After all, this was the district that helped us diagnose why Cordy wasn't like other kids her age. The special education office worked so quickly to get her enrolled in preschool and provided services to help her adjust to the world she was so apart from. Her first preschool teacher is a woman I will forever speak fondly of, a woman I'd gladly consider to be a part of our family, and when Mira qualified for special needs preschool, I immediately asked for her to be placed with this teacher for the upcoming school year.

The principal at Cordy's current school also worked with us to make sure that Cordy wouldn't have to go to her "home" school for kindergarten - a school we know nothing about - when she wasn't selected for any school in the lottery, including her current school. A quick e-mail to the principal pleading our case, and a seat opened up for her. After all, the principal has been just as charmed by Cordy as everyone else who spends time with her.

But the district isn't perfect. I truly wanted Cordy to be mainstreamed this year - placed in a classroom of her "typical" peers where she would inevitably struggle with social rules and routines, but would hopefully be surrounded by a supportive team who would help her learn and grow and rise to the challenge like she always does. However, it wasn't the recommended choice and Cordy will instead spend kindergarten in a special needs classroom with some "inclusion" time allowed in the mainstream kindergarten class each week.

I struggled to be convinced of why this was the best option for her. Her team gave us such glowing reports at the end of this school year: she no longer qualifies for speech therapy. She's academically at a kindergarten level already and they recommend testing her for the gifted program next year. She's still uncoordinated and does need assistance with some fine motor tasks, but she's improving. Why should this child be in special needs?

She has trouble adjusting to a change in routine, they explain. The normal pace in a kindergarten class may be too fast for her. (A kindergarten class has a fast pace? Remember when we spent kindergarten learning to cut with scissors and had nap time?) She's sensitive to some sensory stimuli. She would require too much attention from the teacher, and there are too many kids in the class for the teacher to spend a lot of time with her. Yes, if she had an aide she would probably do well, but that just isn't possible.

It doesn't make sense to me. What I hear is: our schools are overcrowded and our teachers are spread too thin already. And I also hear, loud and clear: your daughter would do well in a mainstream classroom, but we won't pay for an aide for her to make this possible.

I've tried so hard to rationalize this information. I know Columbus City Schools is cutting corners just like every district to save money. They closed several schools this year, shifting the students to other schools to save money. And at the end of the school year, 133 teachers in the district were laid off. With this poor economy, other staff received no raises, but at least they were able to keep their jobs. A levy was passed in recent years, but apparently it's not enough to help the school district.

I try to remember that Cordy isn't the only child in the district, and that the cost of an aide for a child like her might be too much for the district to handle.

And then.

Then I read the news about the school board voting last week to give the superintendent of our school district a raise - a raise far larger than any teacher or staff member in the district is receiving. For the next four years, she'll receive annual 3% raises along with a retroactive 4% raise that she deferred last year. Her total salary at the end of the four years will be $217,000, making her the third highest paid superintendent in Ohio.

This is not a reward for a stellar performance. The test scores for our district are abominable. (And the average high school student in our district probably couldn't tell you what abominable means, other than something to do with a snowman, or spell it.) The superintendent is getting a raise for a graduation rate that has made an "improvement" to 73.9%.

I don't see the reason in it. Schools are closed, teachers are laid off, they threaten to scrap bus transportation for some students, and yet the person who has the least to do with educating children gets the largest pay increase?

On a more personal note, the district can't provide my daughter an aide in the classroom to give her the legal right to a "least restrictive environment", but they can make sure their superintendent is the third highest paid school administrator in the state?

I really feel the district has a screwed up sense of priorities. I have no doubt in my mind that the teachers are doing the best they can with the resources given to them, but the school board and administrators aren't properly appropriating those resources. The teachers need more help. They need fewer students in a class, and aides to help out students who are academically ready for their grade, but might need some assistance with adaptive skills and transitions.

If Aaron wasn't laid off in May, we probably would have enrolled Cordy in a private Montessori school. After all, she's doing extremely

But, like the teachers in the school district, we also can't provide the best for Cordy because of money. It sucks.

The plan at this point is to be the best advocates we can for Cordy this year, watching her progress at school closely and pushing for more integration and moving away from the special needs classroom if possible. Assuming we're both employed next year, Cordy will then go to the Montessori school for first grade. Seeing the superintendent get a large raise when teachers are laid off, classrooms are stuffed full of more students, and when my daughter can't get the most appropriate education because it's not in the budget has completely turned me off from this school district.

I want to support public schools. But I can't support a school district that I feel doesn't use its money properly. I will vote against the school board members who voted for the superintendent's raise, I will not support this superintendent, and should the district cry "poor!" and put another levy on the ballot in the next few years, I will not forget the actions of the district this year when I cast my vote. And I will find another district, or save all we can for a private school, for my children where I feel they will get the best education possible.

I don't know how you do it.

Seriously.

You all deserve a medal. Or a hug. Or a national holiday in your honor, with guaranteed babysitting for the day so you can lounge poolside and have a margarita without worrying if your kid is too close to the edge of the pool.

I'm just finishing up a six day solo-parenting gig and I'm exhausted. (Aaron was in California at San Diego Comic-Con, where ironically the weather was much cooler than the melt-your-face-off heat wave we had in Ohio.) I love my children dearly, but nothing tests your love for your children quite like 6 days alone with them.

Actually, it wouldn't have been so bad if I wasn't on a nocturnal schedule due to my job, and my children weren't on a beat-the-rooster-to-the-punch schedule. This equated to mommy dragging her tired self downstairs before the sun was up, making them breakfast, turning on the TV, and then collapsing on the couch while promising extra gummy snacks at lunch to whichever child could be the quietest for the next couple of hours. You might be surprised how many "who can be the quietest" game rewards you can think up when you're half-delirious from sleep deprivation.

I was raised by a single mom, so you'd think I'd have some tricks on how to do it solo. Growing up, my mom worked 40+ hours a week, cooked meals, cleaned our house, paid bills, mowed the lawn, helped me with my school homework, went grocery shopping, attended my school events, and yet somehow still had time to sit on the couch with me and watch TV in the evenings. I'm convinced she's secretly a cyborg who doesn't require sleep.

Yet six days proved me to be nothing like her. I was short with my girls more than once. OK, more than once each day. Maybe even each hour, depending on the time of day. At times I felt like they were trying to make me lose my temper. The house did not stay clean. The laundry did not get done until Cordy ran out of shorts to wear. Paper plates became my best friends. On the third day, Cordy cried that she missed her daddy when I yelled at her. I didn't cry about missing him until the fifth day.

But the end is now in sight. And we did have some fun during these six days, too. We made ice cream together. We went shopping for toys and t-shirts at the Disney store in the mall. (Mira then begged to go into Victoria's Secret when we walked past it - uh-oh.) We sat together in a heap on the couch and read Thomas the Tank Engine stories. We had dinner with grandma one night, where the girls performed the "I love grandma and mommy" dance for us. Cordy drew a picture of us with a heart above us and the words "I love you mom" written below, asking me to display it to work. (I did.) And each night I tucked each of them into bed and kissed them goodnight, reminding them that even though we sometimes get upset with each other, I will always love them no matter what.

It wasn't so bad. But I'm still glad I don't have to do it longer than six days. And I'm looking forward to getting my time away at BlogHer next week.

Earlier in the summer, I was invited to visit the Columbus Metropolitan Library to learn about their programs, specifically their summer reading club. This was something the girls were only mildly excited about, because going to the library is a semi-regular occurrence for them. But little did they know that was the day the library was kicking off the summer reading program, and there were all sorts of special events going on at the library all day to celebrate.

Now, we don't just have any old library here in Columbus - we have the TOP library. Columbus Metropolitan Library was named the top library of 2010 by Library Journal, along with several other honors they've received before. Our library is awesome - the diversity of their offerings is unmatched.

Cordy and Mira were both excited to sign up for their first summer reading club. Aaron signed up, too - adults are welcome to participate. Cordy already had a library card, but Mira got her first library card that day. (And wouldn't you know it - it was PINK.) They each received a sheet to track their progress and selected several books to start with.

For the next few weeks, this was how we usually saw Cordy at home:

Yes, it's a comic book, but there are words, so it counts!

Her nose was buried in a book, trying to earn time to get another box marked off of her sheet. But Mira wasn't slacking, either - she brought me book after book and begged me to read until my eyes crossed.

And with only half of the summer complete, they have both finished their summer reading club tracking sheets. Aaron took them to the library on Saturday to turn in their tracking forms, and each girl received a library tote bag as her reward. They now use those tote bags to take library books to and from the library.

I've been thrilled to see Cordy's interest in reading develop over the summer. I think she's a stronger reader now than she was at the end of the school year. She may have trouble with social skills in kindergarten, but at least I feel confident that she'll do fine with her academics this fall.

There's still time to get your child enrolled in a summer reading club. Even if you don't live in Columbus, this is something many libraries do each summer. Even my small hometown library had a summer reading club when I was a kid, although back then I had to give a verbal book report to the children's librarian to earn my stamp. (You kids these days have it soooooo much easier! *said in my best old person voice*)

And if you have more time for reading that doesn't involve navigating to Facebook, check out any adult reading club activities your library might have as well.

Locals: should you happen to live in the district of the Columbus Metropolitan Library, be aware that a levy to help fund the library will be on the November ballot this year. This will replace an expiring levy and help fund new services, as well as bringing back Sunday hours to the suburban branches. Don't forget to vote for this levy!

Full disclosure: I was invited to come to the library as a special guest, and received a very nice presentation about all of the library's services while my children were entertained by library staff during storytime. I received no compensation, other than the time of the Executive Director and other staff. Our family loves and supports our local library, and encourages you to love and support your local library, too!

If you're one of those people who has a sharp eye for detail, you might notice that this little blog has slimmed down slightly, at least where the address is concerned. I decided that after 5 years, it was time to drop the unsightly blogspot from the middle and just be http://www.amommystory.com/.

It fit better on my business cards for BlogHer, too.

Hopefully this transition is seamless, but if there are any hiccups, please let me know. I'm told that any links to old posts or feeds will still automatically redirect to their proper places. I'll admit I have no idea how it works - I'm impressed that I managed to redirect the domain at all without calling for help.

And hey, maybe this transition to a slightly more professional-looking domain name will result in a slightly more professional blog?

Nah.

It was almost exactly four years ago that our house was robbed. A man living across the street from us watched our house carefully, finding the one day of the week when no one was home for several hours and then broke our back window and helped himself to everything of value.

The new laptop I had purchased just three days prior - intended for my first BlogHer trip - was gone, along with Aaron's laptop, our game systems and games, the video camera, and several other small electronics. The videos of Cordy's first steps and silly moments were on the tapes he took with the camera. My engagement ring - set out to be re-sized - was stolen as well.

None of those items were ever recovered, even though we provided the serial numbers for everything. But thanks to my eye for tiny details, I spied a small drop of blood on the curtain, and it was through that speck of DNA evidence that the thief was caught several months later.

However, even being a repeat offender doesn't guarantee more than a slap on the wrist, and the thief was released on probation, with a restraining order preventing him from coming near us or our house for 5 years. The final part of his sentence was a requirement that he pay us for our insurance deductible.

We never expected to see the money. Truthfully, I didn't even care about the money. My sense of security had been shattered and I didn't even feel safe in my own home. We always take precautions of locking doors and windows, but it wasn't until then that security systems or other additional precautions to protect our home had even crossed my mind. Replacing the items we lost was costly, but the greater cost to me was in trying to replace any comfort I felt while at home.

As the years have passed, the sharp emotions of that day have dulled. Of course, we keep the house locked up and protected more than ever now, but I'm no longer waking up in a panic in the middle of the night, double-checking locks and systems I know are secure. Most of the items that were stolen were replaced.

But this past week, a letter arrived in the mail from the courts addressed to Aaron. I was completely puzzled, wondering if we had done something wrong, like missed a parking ticket or something like that. Instead, I opened the envelope and found a check for the same amount as our insurance deductible, with a receipt stating it was a restitution payment from the thief!

I never expected to see that money. Holding that check gave me just a little more faith in karma and in the system. It added one tiny bit of closure to an otherwise painful memory, and it just happened to show up during a time when we really need it, too. I only hope that the thief has used this past four years to turn his life around, finding a productive manner of contributing to society instead of shattering windows to take treasured belongings - and peace of mind - from others. Or at the very least, that he no longer lives anywhere near us and never comes into our neighborhood again.

Those of you who follow me on Twitter or Facebook may know that I started working out again. And while I had a blast with Hot by BlogHer last year, I wanted to create a more year-round space to document my attempts at good health and losing weight. I haven't said much about it yet because I wasn't exactly posting much, and was fighting with myself over how much I wanted to share. Truth is, I need to share this kind of stuff - it helps me keep going.

So if you like reading about more than my two adorable children, be sure to check out Losing My Hind. There's even a juicy new post today about what a head case I am when it comes to physical activity.

One advantage of having two daughters? Re-using some of the cutest outfits. And then comparing photos of them in said cute outfits.

Today's dress? A lovely orange and yellow floral dress bought for Cordy by her Aunt Katie.

Now worn by Mira.

(Why must she always give me the "Are you kidding me?" look when I ask her to smile?)

Age difference - almost a year and a half. Cordy wore it at 19 months and it was nearly too tight. Mira now wears it at 3 years old and it's nearly too tight.

It's a size 3.

They're both Amazons in their own way. And yet again I have another dress that I never want to get rid of.