So 9 is Star Student this week, which means I will be hiking up the yoga pants for some serious errand running. Now we have had an established pattern of no homework on the weekends, so I dont usually check the backpack Friday nights. I still do the occasional obligatory check in by asking her. I didn’t this week….of course. Hey, its May.
At bedtime on Saturday night, I reminded her that there should have been a dirty spoon in her lunchbox that needed to go in the dishwasher. Happy to delay going to bed, she ran to her room to produce said spoon. Instead of spoon, she dances back in the kitchen to announce that she is Star Student.
Now while I’m happy she was (finally, it’s May) selected, I am mentally going over tomorrow’s packed schedule trying to figure out how we are going to do the prep. We need a poster (with pictures), snacks for the whole class (no red dye, nuts of any kind, milk or milk by products), a letter to be read to the class (“Dont embarrass me, mom), and an item that is special to the student.
Somehow tomorrow we need to come up with all these things, grocery shop, laundry, and hit a soccer game where we also have to provide snack this week. Did I mention I’m a college student that has a 15 page paper due on Monday?
Now I love the idea of kids getting to take turns in the spotlight. I realize that these activities fill important social emotional growth opportunities for both the Star and those in the audience. Sharing the carefully crafted poster gives students a chance to be creative, practice writing skills, and public performance practice. Basically no down side right?
Unless you are mom. Over worked, over scheduled, seriously who has gluesticks left in May mom. Forget the gluesticks…who prints pictures anymore? Now long ago, I let go of the idea that perfectly crafted, pinterest worthy projects meant I was mom winning. At this point, I’m happy with kid did it themselves and all the major areas are covered.
So to fulfill my requirements, we swooped by walmart for the poster, snacks and glue sticks after the soccer game. 9 searched through the box of pictures and detritus leftover from my scrapbooking phase in the basement to comeup with a few that weren’t totally humiliating. While the rest of us slogged through chores there is only time to do on weekends (haha time on weekends) with what was left of the dwindling day, 9 happily pasted away, colored and glittered her poster. To her credit- she only cried twice.
Poster down, we moved on to finding the right bag to bring the snacks in. Now just put them in the backpack you say. How could you suggest such a thing? Obviously the backpack would be too big to fit on her back in the seat. The bus driver will yell at her for not sitting properly and the 6th grader she shares the seat with wont be nice to her anymore if she gets in trouble. How about the Wal-Mart bag? “You can see right through that mom! I want my snack to be a surprise.” What was I thinking? We needed the bag she got from the invention convention over a year ago that hasn’t been seen in months. Since I may have thrown it out, I used my considerable negotiating skills to reach an agreement with a summer camp towel bag that has sturdy handles and would hide the delightful treats from prying eyes. This was buried under layers of stray puzzle pieces, broken crayons and lost game parts from 2003. It took 40 mins to find.
We are sadly only half way through the week’s items and I have forgotten all the earlier benefits of said project. I am now sending Mrs. A terrible wishes under my breathe: standardized testing, pinkeye, whole school assemblies. How could this women not understand that it takes superhuman effort to just keep my children clean, fed, and where they need to be almost on time at this point in the year. This is her way of punishing me for letting 9 eat sugar cereal twice a week for breakfast, I know it.
Guess what’s on the menu tomorrow?