I don't think it matters if you are a single parent, stay at home mom, working mom or any other type of mom. Universally, we are a tired bunch. This is not to disregard the contribution of fathers but the rules are different for us.
We are expected to be available for all performances, awards, parent/teacher conferences and any other events of significance in the lives of our children. Don't get me wrong. I know how important my attendance is to my kids and I want to support them in every way possible but there are times when I open up their backpacks, see the telltale colored flyer sticking out and I want to scream.
In that lovely script, replete with several exclamation marks, I am informed of a date (usually inside of a week), a time and whatever the event planner might need. Sign up sheets are the bane of my existence. I live in the south and down here, y'all better not show up with anything store bought. So, I am usually running to the grocery store the night before (because who can fricking remember) for sugar or eggs so that I can stay up half the damn night baking cookies.
Again, let me repeat that I want to be supportive. I want to be the kind of mother that sews Hallowe'en costumes and decorates the Christmas tree in a different theme each year. I want to be the kind of mother that goes to the soccer game and actually knows the rules. I want to be the mom who plans out her meals one week in advance and who holds elaborate, well-planned birthday parties that EVERYONE attends.
Alas, I am so not that woman. I have Pizza Hut on speed dial. I nearly cried with relief when pre-lit Christmas trees were introduced. Soccer? I'd rather watch paint dry, especially now that it isn't PC to tell the kids to, "TAKE. HIM. OUT!" Oh, and birthday parties...I just don't know what to say. I've experienced sleep overs, similar to this which had me twitching and muttering to myself about government mandated sterilization.
So today, I was summoned to my child's presentation. He has attended author's camp for the past two weeks and on this glorious Thursday morning, I was told that I would be treated to a reading of some of his work. I don't know how I got it into my mind that this would be a private thing with my son showing me the picture book he'd made or the chapter book he had written. Maybe he would enlighten me with a few paragraphs and then we would thank the teacher, collect his stuff and depart. I was thinking...15 minutes, tops.
Not a chance.
For nearly an hour, me and all of the other parents (with joyful smiles permi-plastered to our faces) listened as EVERYONE presented a little something from EACH of the six genres that were explored. I know that I was in hell because I could smell my hair burning and I could feel little droplets of moisture collect on my upper lip and others slide down my spine. Mercifully, after 56 minutes of torture, it was over.
At the car, my son dumped his collection of goodies in the back. Then, he turned around and gave me a huge hug.
"I'm really glad you came, Mum."
"I wouldn't have missed it for the world, sweetie." And in that moment, I meant it.
3 comments:
I feel your pain! Imagine listening to 8 student plays, en Français and your kid is in #7?!! Smiling and laughing on cue because I can't understand what the HELL is going on!
You're hilarious babe!
I like pre-lit Christmas trees because I don't have to deal with the having to string my own lights. Especially since the ones I have always get tangled up no matter how carefully they are put away.
I loved this piece. We do the things we do, not because we love doing them, but because we love our children.
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