The Tantrum, Part 4: Should you pull your kid out of school for vacation?

cartoon_family_vacation_CoolClips_cart0768(This is the Tantrum, in which Dadwagon’s writers debate one question over the course of a week. For previous Tantrums, click here.)

I just returned from a little family trip out West. It felt like a real vacation: deep snow, my kids’ grandparents, a touch of air travel mayhem (canceled flight, two-day delay getting home, nihilists at the ticket counter).

Only technically, it wasn’t vacation. At least not for my 4-year-old daughter. She’s in preschool now, and her school’s winter break doesn’t start until next week. Despite the fact that her academic responsibilities mostly involve playing with blocks and not biting her teachers, the school calendar, as I was told when we first enrolled her, is inviolable.

So was I wrong to take her out of school? The truth is, we couldn’t have afforded to go skiing next week. We stayed with family and used frequent flier tickets that have blackout dates around the holidays. My wife, who is the newest hire at her work, doesn’t have enough seniority to get those prime Christmas weeks off. As for me, I quit my job and started freelancing last year, which has left a dent in the wallet. And in Colorado, everything, from lift tickets to that much-needed afternoon beer, is cheaper during the slow weeks of early December. Not that the right to a ski week is enshrined in the Constitution, but I have a feeling a lot of families these days are looking at the same choice: in order to take the same vacation they might have a few years ago, they’ll have to go earlier, or later, than the crowds.

I know why my daughter’s teachers take this seriously, though: preschool is  a dress rehearsal for the next dozen or so years of heavier responsibility. What seems like slow season now will become a whirlwind of late-semester projects and presentations, not to mention the stack of winter social events. It will only get more difficult to take her out of school.

I’m also sympathetic to teachers’ frustrations that classrooms would be hugely disrupted if half the class decided to take a week off earlier because it’s cheaper. Following the academic calender is the social-health equvalent of vaccinating your kid: you do it for your kid’s sake, but also because it helps the community function better. Remember that village that’s raising your child? If half the village is trying to score an early-winter lift ticket, you’ve got a real problem.

But there’s something about the tyranny of the schedule that I still can’t abide. Standing in a mile-long line at the airport on the first day of Official Vacation makes me feel less like a free spirit and more like a holiday turkey headed to slaughter.

If all else fails, then, there is this: on the way to the airport to head back home (on a Tuesday!) we drove past a red shack, not far from Highway 70, tucked into the mountains: windows shot out, sloping floor, steel girder on the roof to keep the wind from blowing it off. With a little TLC, it could be the perfect place to live off the grid, hoard canned goods, and swear off formal education forever. Not even the ATF could tell us when to ski.

Rate Your Parenting: Pride Before the Fall Edition

Before I address my attributes as a parent (as Matt asked me to this morning), I want to point out that Mr. Gross seems to be fairly happy with himself of late, no? Not only would he choose to be his own child—an oddly incestuous notion—as evidenced in his earlier post; what’s more, he has a parenting routine that his colleagues, friends, and parenting strangers would “probably kill to have.” (Kill him?)

Even if I felt as Matt did, I would consider whether or not I wanted to express it as baldly as he has chosen. Call me superstitious, or just a guy who’s been reading a lot of Old Testament for his book, but: Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.

This, in blogging parlance, is known as starting a pissing match.

As to me:

1. No.

  • a. I would prefer a father who is wealthier, smarter, and more successful.
  • b. If I know JP, I’d rather have a father who would let me play Nintendo DS without the current restrictions.
  • c. Ellie only loves me when I give her a binkie.
  • d. New York City—the school in Minnesota where my brother sends his children has a petting zoo.

2. All of it.

  • a. Silly question. I am responsible for the facts of my offspring’s existence, even the ones I don’t control.

Bottom line is that nothing is perfect, certainly not me. Given free rein, my kids could probably find a better father. The nice-tragic-absurd reality is that I’m all they’re ever going to get.

Rate Your Parenting: The Latest Craze!

Motherlode, a wholly owned subsidiary of Dadwagon International, points us to 22 Words, a clever little blog that recently posed the following “pointed” parenting-related questions:

  1. Would you want to be your child?
  2. If not, how much of the reason why is you?

And so, in the interest of following up in Internet fads, we ‘wagoneers have decided to provide you our answers to the questions. You know, because this is the kind of easy-to-write blog content that sustains us. Anyway, here we go!

Matt:

  1. Sure.
  2. n/a

Nathan:

  1. Uh, what? This question, particularly the follow-up, insinuates that the the normal answer is that you should want to be your child. I’m sympathetic to the whole live-through-your-kid urge, but still: I’m happy being me, and they’re going to have  just as easy/tough a road as I did or my wife did. Just in their own way.
  2. See above.

More to come throughout the day! Keep checking back, and in the meantime take our little poll:

[polldaddy poll=4257205]

Neglecting Your Child: Advanced Lessons

Oh, right, here’s why I’m not supposed to be going out while my toddler’s asleep in her crib—because her crib could kill her!

The government outlawed drop-side cribs on Wednesday after the deaths of more than 30 infants and toddlers in the past decade and millions of recalls.

It was a unanimous vote by the Consumer Product Safety Commission to ban the manufacture, sale and resale of the cribs, which have a side rail that moves up and down, allowing parents to more easily lift their child from the crib.

Okay, so, wait, how does that change my intention to do her harm? Dammit, I’m going out for a beer while you all figure it out.