Back in the day when people wore animal pelts and rode mastodons (circa 1975) if your mother stayed at home and loved you very much and you were very lucky she would take you to your new school (moving or change of building) a few days before it started and you’d get to meet your teacher. Otherwise you’d have to wait until the first day of school just like the rest of us. The next time you and your parents would enter your school together would be the fall open house, then the Christmas winter program, then the spring open house. That was it unless you were bad or stupid and then you’d have to sit there and be miserable and embarrassed while your parents and teachers whispered about you. Oh, my friends how things have changed.
Today marked the first of several school events. Today was Open House. In two weeks we will go back and Meet the Creature and hear the curriculum. In October we will return to conference about our girls’ progress. There will be a Winter Festival and Program. Things will calm down until February when we will conference again. In April there will be Spring Festival/Art Show/Open House. Then the end of the year carnival. Throw in a few ice cream socials, suggested volunteer times, and the various what not and d-yamn if we’re not spending a lot of time at school.
But Rosie, I hear some of you saying, don’t you care about your children’s education? Don’t you want to be involved? The answer to that is hell yes, I care, and hell yes, I want to be involved, but hell no, do I want to spend what limited time I have on this earth in school.
Jack and I are involved parents. We’re there. We’re tuned in. We check homework, provide opportunities, go to bat for them, and do our best to make sure they are where they need to be. I make sure their teachers know me. I volunteer, I send in notes and treats. When I have issues I try to work it out with the teachers before I go to the principal. I brown nose the head secretary sumpin’ fierce because those of you who are new to this whole school thing? They’re the ones who get you what you need sometimes even when they’re not supposed to. Anyway, I’m there. I’m on it. PLEEEEEEEEEZE don’t make me drag Olivia to your school and try to keep her contained and occupied while listening to stuff that I already knoooooooooow. Please?
And there it is. I was completely dreading this afternoon’s open house and very, very, very close to bad momming it and skipping.