I used to be a little bit spastic with regard to the kids and school.
I had some pretty major control issues.
Leaving the teaching to the teachers was a challenge for me; I really struggled with being on the other side of the parent-teacher relationship.
So I was a room mom.
And a volunteer.
For all the kids.
This year things have dropped off.
I’m not a room mom.
I haven’t volunteered at all.
In fact, aside from Open House in September, I haven’t been into Number 4’s classroom one time this year.
I’ve gone from one extreme to the other.
There are just so many things I can handle.
I had to prioritize, and that was the thing I chose to let go.
So every morning I put the kids on the bus, pray I don’t get any emails or phone calls from any teachers during the day, and then get them off the bus at the end of the day.
And I have no clue what any of the kids are doing in school.
Last week Number 4 came home telling us that she and one other girl in her class are in the “smart club” at school.
I think she’s being pulled out of the classroom for some sort of enrichment group.
Or, the smart club.
I can only imagine what she says about it at school.
I tried to explain to her that telling other kids in the class that she’s in the smart club probably doesn’t make them feel too good.
She didn’t listen to a word I said…
I like to have dinner ready by 6:00.
Yesterday I was running pretty late.
It had been a particularly crazy day.
We had a baseball game.
Then a swim meet.
Then another baseball game.
Which we got to really late.
Because I brought Number 2 to the totally wrong field in the totally wrong town.
Then we had travel baseball tryouts.
I hadn’t really thought about what I was going to do for dinner, but the tryouts were right around the corner from Costco, so I was going to stop there really quickly to pick up something already prepared to have for dinner.
I got there at 6:06.
And that’s when I found out that Costco closes at 6:00 on Saturdays.
Now I had to cook.
So we got home, it was almost 7:00, nothing was ready to eat, it had been a really tiring day, and I just wanted to get dinner on the table and then get the kids into bed.
Number 4 felt the need to remain within about 3 feet of me at all times.
She would not leave the kitchen.
And she would not stop talking.
“Mom, is Sir Isaac Newton still alive?” she asked.
How the hell did she know who that was?
“No,” I said. “He died a long time ago.”
“Was he alive in 1980?”
“No,” I answered. “He died an even longer time ago than 1980.”
“Mom,” she continued.
“I can spell hydration. H-Y-D-R-A-T-I-O-N.”
“That’s really great,” I said. “Why don’t you go spell some words for Daddy?”
“I can also spell sophistication. S-O-P-H-I-S-T-I-C-A-T-I-O-N.
That’s a 5-syllable word.”
Oh my God.
Make this kid shut up.
“Mom, did you know that ludicrous is a three-syllable word?
Do you want me to tell you some other three-syllable words?” she continued.
“Not really,” I said.
“Obsolete is a three syllable word too.”
“Can you just go in the playroom and let me get dinner ready?” I asked again.
“But Mommy, I want to tell you about Abraham Lincoln,” she said, oblivious to my heavy sighs.
“I know a lot of facts about him,” she continued, and she started listing them.
“One, he lived in a log cabin.”
She was like a robot that had gone haywire.
I’m not sure she even had control over herself at that point.
She just had to get this shit out.
So I took her picture.
It was either that, or totally lose it.
“Two, his family didn’t have a lot of money, so he helped out by chopping wood.
Three, he lived in the White House.
And four, he was a professional sumo wrestler.”
I don’t know what’s going on in this smart club, but it may be time for me to get my ass into school and start volunteering again.
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