I would
like to take a minute to say that school is ruining my life. I never thought I’d say that as one who loved
school so much she became a teacher when she grew up. I had these disillusions of what having
children in school would be like and reality doesn’t even come close. (And on
behalf of my former teacher self, my apologies to any of the parents I may have
judged too harshly…I just couldn’t know…the struggle is real!) I haven’t even entered full-blown school mode
with my children and yet somehow, this two and a half hours has completely
ruined my life.
It’s true what they say, “you don’t
know what you’ve got til it’s gone”.
Gone are the days of lounging in our pajamas until 10:00 am. Gone are the days of leisurely
breakfasts. I now set an alarm every
morning to make sure I have enough time to make a nutritious (who am I kidding, that goal was scrapped
after the first week) edible breakfast. Gone are the days (and days and days)
it felt perfectly acceptable to wear my hair in a ponytail and not bother with
an ounce of make-up. Gone are the days
of my children scheduling their daily bowel movements for anytime they felt the
urge. (I never realized what a big deal
this was until I found myself screaming at my five-year-old to “wrap it up”
while he sat on the toilet five minutes after we should have left…sad, but true
story.)
You know what preschools should
really advertise on their websites?
Forget their academic approaches, student to teacher ratios, and life
skills goals. What they should have told
me was that every.single.day I was going to have to rush three kids through a
morning routine, pack them in the car while frantically yelling, “Hurry
up! We’re going to be late!” I should
have been told I would once again have to drive in morning rush hour traffic (I
can only assume by all of your agitated driving that you too were not allowed
your full time on the commode). It should have been said that I would have to
unpack said children from car while frantically yelling, “Everybody out before
we’re late!” and run into the building to ensure full academic participation on
the part of my preschooler.
Preschools should also be required to post a map of where each classroom
will be located and allow parents to choose a classroom based on its proximity
to the nearest door, not appropriate developmental group. (Because I can assure
you I would not have chosen the absolute farthest classroom from the door!)
I should have also been given some sort of warning that my ponytail,
tattered sweat pants, and stained t-shirt would make me feel as self-conscious
as my middle school self wearing knock-off Doc Martens to the Buckle. (If you understood the last part of that
sentence, you have my deepest sympathies that your parents were as lame and
level-headed as mine refusing to a) shop at the overpriced Buckle and b) buy
their 14-year-old $110 sandals. So uncool, Mom!)
I thought moms were supposed to be a
sisterhood of solidarity! Don’t even try
to pass off your perfectly coordinated yoga pants, jacket, tennis shoes, and
fresh make-up as the “mom look”. Because
let’s face it, the mom look is perfected in those dark, circle-lined, frantic
eyes, none of which your perfectly pulled-together ensemble possesses. I just want to wear my pajamas, but no! You ruined it with your faux-casual look and
now I’m forced to put on jeans at least three times a week so it appears to the
rest of the world that I haven’t completely given up.
And here it is, Sunday night…time
to start all over again. So let me stop right here and just applaud everyone
who gets up every day and manages to get their children to school on time. Can I also applaud your efforts in making
sure your child shows up to school with two shoes? (I don’t even care if they match.) Can I take a minute to say kudos to you,
brave one. You’ve done it! You have managed to do more in one morning than
I cumulatively accomplished in three pre-preschool days. I salute you!
Also, as a symbol of camaraderie,
how would you feel about sweatpants on Wednesdays?!
