My son's favorite socks for almost four years have been by Fruit of the Loom. They are toddlers' ankle socks, white on top of the foot and a color on the sole -- either red, navy, blue, or gray. He likes to mix and match them, but generally these four colors go with everything in his dresser drawers. They also have a tight band of elastic so even when he was tiny, the socks stayed on. All in all a wardrobe win. Socks: Like hugs for your feet. These socks are logical. Toddler S, M, L -- he's worn them all. For convenience, the size is even printed on the inside of the elastic part so I don't mix them up. He's in the toddler large size now, and they're getting too small. Or he's getting too big. Like the attentive and caring mother I am, I go out and try to find new ones in WHAT I ASSUME would be little boys' size small. Because that makes sense, right? The next size up from toddler large socks is little boys' small socks.   WRONG WRONG W

As I sat down in the tiny chair and steeled myself for Pre-K orientation, I began to look around the room at the small desks, the empty bulletin boards, and the other people who were there with me. And I noticed something -- all of the other parents looked so grown up. They definitely looked like parents. Like what my friends' parents looked like when I was a kid. Like mature, capable adults prepared to successfully handle whatever challenges life may throw at them via their children. Claire Huxtable could really adult. And then I had a terrible realization: I'm in the wrong room . You know where I should be? Freshman orientation. Not for my kid -- don't be ridiculous. For me. I'm totally ready for high school now. I'm confident enough to care less about what others think of me and strong enough to resist peer pressure. I can smoothly navigate a sea of hormones (unless it's PMS). I'm really good at time management, not to mention reasonably responsi