In perusing the DSW clearance rack, this pair of sneakers stopped me in my tracks.
It was seventh grade gym class. Our teacher took us all out to the track and informed us that we all had to run a full mile, and that we’d be timed. Excuse me? At the time I had no concept of how far a mile was, and I also was not a fan of running. I was – and am – more of an indoors kind of girl.
On this particular, horrible gym day, I remember panicking at the thought of running a mile. A mile was something you drove in a car! I didn’t even live a mile from the school! Plus, I was wearing my raspberry colored high top Converse sneakers; not exactly athletic footwear.
The class staggered and took off running on the teacher’s cue. Or – in my case – more like wogging, which was a clumsy cross between jogging (when the teacher was looking at me) and walking (which was every other minute on the track). My feet ached, my arches were screaming, and I wanted to cry.
After being lapped by most of the class (who didn’t stick around the cheer me on), I was, officially, the last person to finish. I think I clocked a 10+ minute mile, barely finishing in our allotted time for gym class.
That day is burned into my memory, and likely the reason why I never wanted to run. In my late thirties I ran my first 5K, mostly because I needed to do some type of exercise and a friend said she’d train with me. And there I was, back on that SAME track, doing the couch to 5K. Hating it just as much as I had 20 years earlier.
But back to the sneakers. How I LOVED those raspberry Converse! Fast forward a few decades and here was this pair sitting on the clearance rack, in almost the exact same color, except they were suede – a total upgrade. But I didn’t get them, because the minute I saw them, I was transported back to that horrible day of gym class, and how they were the worst shoes to have on that day. And I reminded myself that I’m too old to wear shoes with no arch support and that hurt my feet.
Let me begin by telling you how amazed I am that you take in hundreds of children each and every day, and that you continually show up for work. For 180 days. Kudos, truly. I have no idea how you do it. You are better humans than I am.
Now that we are two full months into the school year, I wanted to share some parental thoughts that you may not be aware of, that are plaguing families in towns across America.
We don’t have any cash. There is nothing more stressful than being reminded by your child that today is spirit day for a donation/field trip money is due/class t-shirt order day seven minutes before the bus comes. These requests are usually for cash and we don’t have any. After pillaging through our child’s drawers for tooth fairy money, we are tapped out. May I propose a class or school Venmo account that parents can use to pay for everything that pops up throughout the year? Speaking for this Mama, if I could donate money to a charity so my child can wear a hat to school, the donation will be much bigger if submitted electronically than if I have to find actual paper money in my house.
Kids don’t tell us shit. This is the truth. Or if they do tell us, it’s too late. A perfect example of this is when Little Mister came home with a workbook that hadn’t been started yet.
Me: “Do you have to do anything with this?” Him: **shoulder shrug** Me: “Why is this coming home for the first time today? Do you have to complete any of it?” Him: “I don’t know!”
A quick email to the teacher revealed that the kids were told to do a few pages in the workbook on Monday (today was Wednesday). My particular child looked at me like I asked him to recite the periodic table of elements when I asked him if he remembered being asked to work on this.
Unless it’s assigned to them in writing, sent home via email from teachers to parents, or stapled to their foreheads, there’s a 97% chance that what teachers are telling students in school is not making it to their parents’ ears at home. What IS making it to our ears, is who went to the Principal’s office, if the cafeteria ran out of Oreo ice cream bars and who pushed who during recess.
When a child does remember something, it’s usually at the most inopportune time:
At the bus stop: “We could bring a stuffed animal in today! Can we go get one?” Having breakfast: “Can you chaperone the field trip today?” Before bed: “Today parents could have come in to read to our class.”
Projects. You are looking at someone who LOVES herself a good art and craft project. When I have the opportunity to break out the glue gun, I am one happy girl. And I can appreciate the learning that goes into working on a project, creating something with your hands and mind, and showing it off. I am not looking for fewer projects! My question is this: is there any chance the projects could be smaller? Actually physicallysmaller. While we are putting our Amazon boxes to great use, we are running out of room to display (read: store) all of our beloved works of art. Because guess who doesn’t like to throw out projects? The kid who made them.
We parents can not thank you enough for everything you’re doing for our children.
If you need me, I’ll be gathering small bills from the bank to get us through the end of the year.
When schools shut down in March, the sh*t hit the fan for working parents. When we couldn’t send Little Mister to daycare, we found ourselves juggling who was going to watch/entertain/be at his beck and call every hour of every day. It was exhausting, and we weren’t even dealing with Chromebooks and Google Meets and meltdowns like parents with school-aged children.
We endured the pandemic through spring and summer, while the fall school scheduled loomed over our heads. Would the kids be going back to school? What would learning look like? Did the package stores have enough wine stocked for parents??
As August started and the first day of school drew near, we started getting communications about the school year. And the plan changed by the day. Sometimes by the minute. For the most part, the decision on what the schools would be doing was being driven by the county’s health district. Plans were shared. Parents voted. And finally, options were presented.
And let me tell you: there was no good choice:
• Send your child to school full time and risk expose them to the virus of the century • Keep your child home and risk your sanity while you try and work full time • Opt for a hybrid model and have a combination of the worst of both worlds: exposure and remote learning while you were trying to work
Plus, our Little Mister was starting kindergarten. This was supposed to be the year to experience riding on the bus, learning to share and making friends. But that wasn’t going to happen this year. If we sent him to school, he would be sitting 6 feet away from the next kid, masked and solitary, not interacting or playing or sharing. He was being robbed of a true kindergarten experience.
Since I always work from home (pandemic or not), and it seemed like Mr. KK was going to be my coworker at least through the first half of 2021, we needed to find a solution that fit our work schedules. As a self-proclaimed crazy person during the pandemic, I had ZERO desire to send Little Mister to school. We had been SO diligent all summer and the thought of sending him into a classroom filled with other kids who could have been licking each for all I knew, was terrifying. Plus, we had just started integrating with our parents so they could watch Little Mister, and I didn’t want to bring any risk to our little pandemic bubble.
Our options from our school district were: a hybrid model where kids were in school 2 days, then home for remote learning 3 days, or a fully remote model.
For us, the hybrid model wasn’t going to work. I know Little Mister, and having him be in one place for a few days then transitioning not only his environment but how he was learning, was not going to work. Plus, on the days he had school at home, there would be no live learning; instead, assignments would be posted for the kids to complete. (And if asking him to do schoolwork on his own was anything like us asking him to do workbooks and practice his writing in the Spring, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t survive. Did you know it could take 1 1/2 hours to write your name 8 times?). Plus, we were lucky: we had been strict with our activities all summer, and we had resources in our corner: my mother-in-law was a retired teacher and willing to help us out with teaching, and my parents would help with after school care.
So we closed our eyes and jumped feet first into the fully remote model. And we haven’t looked back since.
We started by setting up a classroom at Grandma’s house (in Mr. KK’s old bedroom!). We set up a desk with all the supplies he’d need. And Grandma (in full teacher fashion) hopped on Amazon and dug through her teacher boxes and found decorations that would put any in-school classroom to shame. Days of the week! The alphabet! Vowels! Seasonal accents! We had it all.
Who needs public school when you have Grandma Elementary??
We wanted to make this experience as close to reality as possible so we created a schedule: we got up, got dressed, ate breakfast and packed our lunch and backpack and went off to “school”. Grandma sits with Little Mister 3 days a week, I do one day and Mr. KK does one day. And while he could navigate pretty well on his own, having someone next to him as a cheerleader and keeping him on task has been beneficial. From what I can tell, Little Mister LOVES school. He raises his hand and participates. He quotes his teacher back to me, which is like the holy grail: he is actually listening to her! He loves being on the computer and learning how to read and spell.
Is it perfect? Nope. Is it working for our child right now, during this particular time? Yes. And that is all that matters.
Plus, we get to hear phrases like, “Don’t worry, Grandma, I’ll get us back on The Meet” and “Ugh, don’t they know how to MUTE?” Ah, a smartass, just like his mom.
Life of kk 