With three kids in school full time, the beginning of April feels like the last 10 miles of a marathon. Summer is rapidly approaching and the knowledge that the school year will soon come to an end hangs off the trees like a ripened peach just out of reach. I’m starting to picture lemonade and carefree summer days, capped off with S’mores. No more book reports or tears over algebra. Or, letters like this from my kindergartener’s school:
“Fu*k,” I muttered under my breath as I read the note in full.
Look, it’s not that I’m lazy, it’s just that I’m tired. And this exhaustion is brought on (for the most part) from everyone making little things bigger than they have to be. Case in point, we are Jewish, and my kindergartner goes to public school. Does he need to participate in a “Spring” egg hunt? No. And while I have read that in colder climates more chicks are hatched during the warmer seasons, let’s face it, eggs and Easter egg hunts are (in this case) just symbols of Jesus’ Resurrection and Easter. And I’m pretty sure those topics don’t belong in public school.
When Christmas rolled around, and my son’s teacher decided to have an Elf on the Shelf and make reindeer food for the kids I didn’t say a thing. I have no problem with teachers being festive and embracing the seasons and holidays, especially because I believe teachers are the most underpaid human beings on the planet. But does that stuff belong in public school? Probably not.
When Valentine’s Day was here, I begrudgingly assisted my child in the creation of a mailbox and cards for his friends. Did I think it was unnecessary and over the top? Sure. But hey, he’s a kid, and kids should have fun, I reminded myself.
When he decided to create Leprechaun traps for St. Patrick’s day and was disappointed that the leprechaun didn’t leave him anything (when the hell did this become a thing, by the way?!), I quietly explained to him that I’ve never actually seen a real leprechaun, and I’m pretty sure if they do exist they’re too busy on St. Patrick’s day to leave presents. And while I found this inappropriate for a public school I didn’t b*tch about it.
So now here we are. And I’m brainstorming items to put into little plastic eggs (that I’m going to have to go and buy) because I want my kid to feel included and I don’t want to be known as that mom who makes a big deal out of every little thing. After all, my kid still has five more years left at this school.
But let me just say for the record that I’m doing it under duress.