It is May and Motherís Day is just around the corner. Because this year it falls on the day after my daughterís 7th birthday, weíll be spending that day at Disney World sweating and dealing with large crowds and most likely yelling at both of the children all day. Iím not sure why I thought this would be a good idea now that I think about it.
I havenít lost track of how Iím doing in my solo run in a contest I made up in my own mind for mother of the year. I suppose I win if Iím the only contestant, but it will feel like a cheap victory.
So far, Iíve taught my son about how not to rely on the lottery for a future income, which is a good thing. I also told my daughter that if she hated school so much and wanted to stay in the first grade forever, sheíd look pretty silly being 12 years old sitting in that tiny desk and no one would want to play with her.
That probably wasnít nice.
She really does not like school. We go through the battle every night. She throws a little fit about going to bed because, as she told her dad, ďSchool is a waste of my time.Ē When morning comes, there is no happiness in her heart unless it is the weekend.
I have to admit, I donít like school either. There is too much stuff to look at. When I was in first grade, I didnít have a ton of junk for my parents to sign or dig through, but we also didnít get bogged down with all the information about what standardized test is coming or just passed or may ruin our childís future forever.
I also donít read the newsletter. Sorry, school, but I barely read my own mail and that has bills in it which can potentially affect our well being at home. I am certainly no PTA parent and each day that passes, I am further losing the chance to ever become one.
Even when I stayed at home with my son when he was a baby and a toddler, I didnít like hanging out with other moms or in parent groups. It always seemed like a competition of ďWho Has the Most Spectacular Kid?Ē
Some mom would be talking about how her little sweetheart could already count to 10 at 18 months and name the animals at the zoo. Iíd sit back and think about interjecting that my son could run with a huge potato and hold it just like a football and that he didnít hit his head on the dining room table at all that week.
Weíre all proud of our kids so I donít blame the other parents for wanting to share. It just isnít my scene.
This past week, my daughter had a school performance with the entire first grade. I barely got her there in time and, if it werenít for my husband, we would have been sitting in the very back.
She, however, was in the back row onstage, but she participated even with an incredibly loose tooth. One boy in the front row didnít sing or do any of the movements at all. He was passively resisting authority. I think that one will be her future husband.
To all you other parents out there with regular kids, letís get together sometime and talk about how normal they are. No overachievers allowed.