It's official. Seven days is as long as we can hold it together. Yesterday, day 8, marked my first visit to the school office to drop off some education prop that someone left on the counter. (Eh, it was easy to do on my way to the dentist.) I'm not going to count day 3 when Samuel threw a tantrum about going to class, I carried him kicking and screaming across his classroom threshold, I left the building ... and so did Samuel. I'm not going to count it, because well, no one left anything on the counter. Besides, Samuel's in a category unto himself.
If yesterday's office visit was a crack in the good standings record, my barefoot jaunt to the school holding a lunch sack this morning split our facade wide open. I spied James' lunch (on the counter, of course) a MINUTE after the kids left. I opened the door, leaned over the porch and called to Samuel's retreating backside. He ran ahead calling to James. Huh, Samuel's not coming back. Guess I'll just trot down the stairs and catch up to him at the corner. No need to close the front door.
I caught up to Samuel but never once saw James. What, did he apparate to school? And why did he leave his 7-year-old brother to walk alone?
By now I was committed to walking with Samuel the rest of the way, and if I wanted to get him there on time there was no turning back for shoes. Or to close the front door. Just the thought of being singled out for a tardy is enough to fuel his reluctance to go to class, and I didn't want that battle, too. Samuel also picked a fine time to honor rules, saying he wasn't allowed to deliver the lunch to James' class.
Yep, that was me walking through the school, barefoot. That was me interacting with other adults. Were it anything but food for my child, on this morning I would have let the silly counter keep its hostage.
At least I was dressed.
Sadly, I'm in good company on the holding it together front. Witness these emails from the schools:
• The junior high P.E. teacher let me know the details of the swimming field trip. Elise doesn't have a P.E. class.
• The junior high principal last night sent a long message apologizing for putting my child in a math level without having her take the district's required placement exam. She has to take the test today; we were notified last night. She is stressed because she doesn't know if this will mean she has to rearrange all her other classes if she doesn't pass. Poor girl.
• Two schools sent me an electronic flyer the evening of Sept. 4 for an event that took place Sept. 3. Woo-hoo!
I tell ya, seven days is our max. What, only 173 to go!
3 comments:
I think all of us can relate. Barefoot? That's awesome. You're a rock star mom. I hope the kids appreciate ya. :)
I love that you have your priorities in order. Who needs shoes? ! School is for the birds, I tell ya.
This makes me so happy to read. Just last week I showed up at the school in my pajamas with my dirty canning apron on and slippers. I'd found Zaak's homework on the table just seconds after his Dad left to take him to school. Convinced I could catch him at the drop off, I grabbed the 4yo (without shoes--he threw a tantrum about that, but I somehow got him buckled in anyway.) and drove to the school. NO ONE was in the drop off zone so I had to park the car and carry my shoeless 4y0 inside the school and out to the playground to find Zaak. Then back into the school to find his backpack only to find out the homework I had brought was from last week. His homework was tucked neatly in his folder where it should have been. My pajamas, stained apron, slippers, shoeless 4yo, and scattered self should have just stayed home. 159 days and counting.
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