What...? There's more?

I keep thinking back to that post by Jen Hatmaker* that went viral on Facebook -- the one I chose to read whilst sitting among all the ballet moms that I've never paid much attention to, the one that caused the laugh-choke-spray water reflex -- because it's that time of year.

My older child is still bringing home math homework, and has been almost every day these past two weeks or so.

I don't have five children, but I'm tired. There are, I think, about five days left of school for Devyn and, as much as I know that I am a role model, I can't help it. I hear myself saying, "Don't worry, report evaluations would have been submitted before the middle of June. It's not like she's going to mark it..."

Last night, Devyn's eyes rounded, her eyebrows lifted up to her hairline, and she practically whispered, "Mum, are you saying...I shouldn't do it?"

"Yes...No! I mean I'm saying not to get too stressed out about it."

But, hell, I'm stressed out about it. It bewilders me that the grade 4s are still doing anything important at all: the booklets look more like catch-up than review. 

"Uh, Mum? Are you telling me not to do my best?"

"No...Give me a minute."

Damn. At least, I know that she has been listening all these years.

I should think that Devyn's teacher would know better than anyone that it's JUNE, which isn't just the end of the school year; it's the end of ballet season, piano, theory, and vocal lessons (x2) for our children. Last month, we started recitals, end-of-year performance classes, rehearsals, dress rehearsals, costume fittings, music exams, and so on.

Finally, our last recital is on Saturday -- it's the big one that pretty much sells out the local convention centre -- and I can't get Molly's ballet slippers clean or find a passable pair of ballet tights for her to wear to the first dress rehearsal that is this evening. I realize that this doesn't sound like a huge deal, but to all involved, it actually is. On top of this, I keep putting laundered clothing in my bedroom only to find it in the unlaundered-clothes pile, so I will be doing laundry just to look for the one remaining suitable pair of tights that we have.

So, no, I don't want any more math homework this academic year. If my reaction to the tights is any indication, I need the summer break. Now.

But is there a silver lining, a bright side? I think it must be that I get to see that other mothers aren't perfect either because a lot of us are looking pretty harried.

It's all I can do now to sign the agenda every evening. I've only missed two days of signatures this week (which is half the total for the full year, I think) so if the teacher today leaves an empty little reminder circle where my initials should be...I swear, I just might cry.

--

*http://jenhatmaker.com/blog/2013/05/30/worst-end-of-school-year-mom-ever

Oh, yeah, and if you get a chance...

It's Monday morning, Molly's return to school after a two-week break, and the four of us are getting ready for the day.

She doesn't respond as I announce that it is time for her to leave for school, but Molly often doesn't hear people when she's pursuing an interest. So, I am not surprised when I find her leaning against the princess sofa (our antique chaise longue) as she leafs through a book.

When I see its title, I cautiously ask if she intends to take the book to school.

-- Yes, I think so. For Victoria.

Victoria is a classmate who, it appears, is somewhat fickle in designating BFF status. Something tells me that I lack some critical information about Molly's plans for the day, but she really must leave now.

-- Okay, darling. Let's pack it up, then.

-- I'm going to give it to her at recess and have her read it. Then, she'll know how to behave.

I freeze. My mind races this way and that, searching frantically for a way to dissuade her from the sweet-but-misguided plan while nevertheless lauding this bold attempt to connect with a friend.

-- Well, what if you were to ask Victoria to read the book with you? Then, Victoria could learn about her mistakes without ever being aware of your [intended act of] kindness.

She folds the book under her little arm, furrows her brows, and sets about the task of going to school -- without disclosing her intentions.

I am encouraged by the fact that Molly reaches for books (just as Devyn does) in matters of conflict.

--

How To Be A Friend: A Guide to Making Friends and Keeping Them (Laurie Krasny Brown/Marc Brown)

Home, Sweet . . .

So, spring has arrived and I have finally gotten around to the posts that I started back in January. . .

I was sad that our last Christmas vacation day had arrived and I asked Molly what she would like to do for fun on January 11th. Engrossed, I was making my way up and down the aisles of our local book store when I cast my eyes around to find a too-quiet Molly--I actually gasped when I saw her!

The employees know us very well. They told me that she was actually pretty safe there and that the structure was very stable. It was impossible to convince Molly to leave.

"Can't we stay a little more longer?"

It is fitting that an hours-long trip to the book store was what Molly wanted.
When we went to pick up Devyn from school? She grabbed a book for the trip.


                                            

The only  difficulty was that, after Devyn's dismissal, I agreed to stay around the school yard so that they could play with some friends. Then, when Devyn went to play, Molly and I leaned against a fence while she begged me to read about static electricity with her. I explained that it was far too cold to sit and read (bad mother!) and that she should really be playing instead, but that wasn't what she wanted to do. So, with winter wind chaffing my unprotected cheeks, I tried to sound enthusiastic about electricity instead of lamenting that I had none with which to warm myself at that point in time.

Yesterday, I actually found myself asking her junior kindergarten teacher if Molly could take books to class for recess...I am serious. As it turns out, Molly opted to play yesterday at nutrition break but I guess just knowing that she could look at books instead was good enough for her.