If you are reading this, that means the month of May hasn’t killed you yet.
For all us parents out there struggling to cross that end-of-school-year finish line, there should be some sort of support group. We could even have matching T-shirts. The front of the shirt could say I SURVIVED MAY. On the back could be a picture of a disheveled mom lying on the kitchen floor in the fetal position holding up a tattered lunch box to a kid passing by. A kid who has their nose plastered to a tablet. A kid with messy hair and mismatched shoes… without socks, of course. A kid who mentally checked out of school shortly after Easter break and who is currently in no way, shape or form ready to get in the car and go to school.
It is true that we are all totally and completely over school at this point. The parents. The students. Even the teachers. Especially the teachers. All done. All over it.
The kids have sensed the end on the horizon for weeks now and have all but given up. I have literally had to drag a few of my children out of bed this past week and prop them up against a dresser to help them get their clothes on.
Please enjoy this picture of my son taken a year ago during the last week of school.
Are you feeling just how “over it” he was?
Poor guy. I feel his pain. Actually, in my house it may be the parents who are looking forward to summer the most.
We’ve had enough. We are ready for a break from ensuring that all homework packets, school projects and educational software requirements have been completed and turned in. If I’m asked to fill out or sign one more school folder, planner, agenda, reading log, behavior chart or school survey I am going to throw a #2 pencil across the room.
We can no longer muster up the energy to piece together 5 creative, fun and/or wacky outfits for another themed spirit week. We just can’t. In fact, let’s vote to have May be national “pajamas and flip flops” month.
Also, field day. You want me to send my kids to school slathered in sunscreen with a change of clothes, a spare water bottle and a towel labeled with their name on it? At this point it is a miracle if I remember to put on deodorant and a bra so asking me to gather all those extras is just cruel. I thought about offering my kids’ teachers money to apply their sunscreen for me on field day. Like, 20 bucks under the table. But then I read those 10 email reminders stating, in bold, that teachers are not allowed to apply sunscreen. It’s against the law… or something like that.
A few weeks ago, a coworker of mine declared that, “May is the new December.” At first, I thought she was referring to how insanely busy the month is. But upon further review, I now see that she was also referring to how broke we are all going to be once May is over. Just like the Christmas season, May is EXPENSIVE.
We cannot possibly doll out any more money for teacher appreciation week, end of the year gifts, yearbooks, spring pictures, supplies that are needed for end of the year parties or last-minute fundraisers. Our bank accounts have nearly been drained and whatever money we have left is going to pay for summer camps.
And the events. How many more events can we cram into this month? No doubt that sometime in mid-April, employers around the world start day drinking and hiding in the company supply closets to avoid all the parent employees who are requesting time off for yet another end-of-school-year event. Programs, awards ceremonies, graduations, moving up ceremonies, class parties. At the beginning of the month to honor Mother’s Day, I attended three separate Muffins with Mom events all on different days of the week.
Now, don’t for one second think that I don’t love and appreciate every single one of these things. I do! They are all precious and adorable and they make the kids feel so loved and special. I am all for that! And I am incredibly grateful for the hard-working teachers who spend so much time and energy putting it all together. Really, I am! It’s just… there’s a lot of things, okay?
I don’t know about you, but I have found that as this school year comes to a close, there are a few things that I have “let go” more than others.
The first thing is the lunch packing situation. Anyone else have a mental countdown going on, ticking away the number of lunches left to pack until school is over? Yep. This girls does. Started after Christmas.
In August, my lunch game was strong. I had lunches packed and ready the night before. Turkey sandwiches on whole wheat bread with a variety of healthy snacks and sides. But now, it’s May, and I am frantically slinging around Lunchables, Uncrustables, cheese sticks and pre-packaged, no-nutrition carbs at 7:00am like it’s my job. The other day I sent my daughter to school with a Ziploc bag of salami as her main course. I didn’t even have the energy to put it between two slices of bread.
Second, my ability to leave the house in a timely fashion has fallen head-first off the educational wagon these past few weeks. School starts at 8:30. In August, I was herding everyone into the car no later than 7:30. That may seem over the top but we all know that the herding-kids-into-the-car scenario takes at least 20 minutes. This way, we would get to school early enough for me to get to work on time and for my kids to earn extra minutes on their reading and math applications in the computer lab before class starts.
But now, it’s May. And with each passing week we are leaving later and later. To my 65 year old neighbors attempting to enjoy the peace and quiet of retirement, the clamor and clatter coming from the garage next door probably sounds like some sort of violent military operation.
Go, go, go! Get off the floor! Get in the car! You need to move faster! We are going to be late! Grab your folder! Where are your shoes?! Stop touching your brother! Why don’t you have pants on?!
Lastly, in this crazy month of May, I have redefined my responsibilities as the primary homework supervisor. I used to be all, “Let’s sit down and read a book together and discuss if and how we relate to the characters and define any vocabulary words you might be unfamiliar with.” But now I’m all, “Did we listen to a Podcast in the car today on the way to school? Good. Write that down in your reading log and forge my initials for me.”
Here is a picture of my kindergartner’s homework taken just last week:
Read the part under What I Liked Most About This Book Was:
What does that even say? I have no idea. The first part is clear-ish. It says, “I like went they.”
But that last word… Dibootwos? Bibootwes? No clue. In August I would have made her sit down and spend a bit more time developing and correcting that sentence.
What is it that you liked, honey? Can we try and stretch out that word and sound it out together? Maybe you could even give a brief explanation as to why “went they Dibootwos” is your favorite part.
But not anymore. My response was, “Perfect. Looks great. Now put that in your folder and don’t forget to turn it in.”
I’m over it, ya’ll.
And I know you are, too.
Just a few more days!
We got this!
Let’s finish strong… ish. Summer, here we come!
Oh, and be sure to check back here in about 9 weeks for when I am begging the schools to open their doors early and take these crazy kids back!