At first, the folder in our file cabinet labeled "Classes" was nearly empty, save for a few brochures I had collected at a baby exposition during my first pregnancy. It remained that way for months. Between naps, feeding, and changing our firstborn, it was no easy feat to make it to the grocery store, let alone participate in extracurricular activities.

As our daughter approached her first birthday, I noticed that other new mothers with babies younger than mine were already beginning to enroll their keiki in classes. One neighbor with an infant half our child's age had actually signed up for what to weary me seemed a whopping two classes per week. I decided to settle on a single course for our daughter, and began investigating the options.

Soon my folder began to burgeon.

First there were the activities for which our daughter was actually, at under a year, too old. We had already implemented baby signing at home. Her constant motion ruled out infant massage.

A workout class for mommies and babies sounded promising: Lose the pregnancy pounds and simultaneously spend time with my daughter in the fresh air. In reality, the course consisted of my running our non- jogging stroller around the perimeter of a sizable park, stopping only to do exercises with muscles that I had not used for a year, while making sure that my child was not hungry, wet, or crying.

When I next brought our daughter to a keiki gym class, I realized that she must have inherited the same aversion-to-grueling-workouts gene as me. The room setup with its brightly colored tunnels, ramps and slides seemed like a child's fantasy come true. However, our daughter balked before each activity while the other kids tried to scramble around her.

I found myself repeatedly telling the other parents, "Dozo, dozo, please go first," and realized this program was not the right fit either.

Perhaps swimming was a better alternative; after all, this is Hawai'i. In the end, though, it was just too much of a hassle to drive 40 minutes roundtrip for a 25-minute class, not to mention how long it would take to properly shower and change our daughter. Besides, she seemed to prefer simply splashing with my husband and me in our condominium's pool.

Since our daughter showed a budding interest in animals, nature-related programs sounded appealing. Most, however, were geared toward older youth, as were various art, foreign language and church-related programs. At age 3, it seemed a world of opportunities would open up: hula, cooking, martial arts, and more.

With her natural gravitation toward instruments and singing, I decided to sign our daughter up for a music course. Even this required my sorting through several selections. In the end, she truly enjoyed one particular music program, which she has been happily attending for more than a year.

With our daughter now 2 and a new baby in the house, it is once again time for us to fill the "Classes" folder with pamphlets, preview alternatives, and enroll in the most promising programs. Even for children as young as our keiki, the plenitude can be surprisingly overwhelming. However, having options is also a blessing.

As something I often take for granted, I am reminded, in this season of thanksgiving, to be grateful for the choices we have.

Monica Quock Chan is a freelance writer who lives in Honolulu with her husband and children.