It's Monday morning, and my kids got tardy slips at school.
Again.
I dropped my boys off in front of the school and watched them walk in, slowly. They hate getting tardy slips. The front office has a big window, and I watch the nice lady in the front office hand my kids the cheerful pink slips. They trudged to their classrooms. I drive home, feeling like I have a big red "FAILURE" stamped across my forehead.
A few years ago, when I was in a terrible habit of not getting my kids to school on time, I received a letter from the school.
Dear Distracted Mommy, it read. Please be informed that your student, Distracted Mommy's Son, has accrued quite a few tardies. Please make more of an effort to get your child to school on time ...
Okay, I don't remember exactly what the letter said. But when I read it, I swore I could see the words "You Fail" on the watermark of the paper.
This morning, I've decided I don't want to start a Monday off feeling like such a failure. So I'm drafting an imaginary letter to myself from my sons' school:
Dear Distracted Mommy,
Congratulations! Your sons were tardy to school this morning, but only by two minutes! That's a lot better than last week, when they were 11 minutes late.
Also, we want to commend you for never, not even once, sending your sons to school in their pajamas. We know the temptation has been there many times, and yet your sons come to school each day, fully dressed. Amazing!
Another list of achievements:
Kudos for not feeding your children last night's cold pizza and flat soda for breakfast, even though that would've been a lot easier than giving them a bowl of cereal.
Also, we're so proud that your son's socks match this morning! And the other son looked like he combed at least the front part of his hair.
Keep up the good work!
Sincerely yours,
Your sons' school
You are an over achiever! Laurel and I enjoyed reading your Monday morning tale. She'd never get to school on time without the bus that pulls up to the corner, although we sometimes miss the bus! Luckily, I have a driver's license.
ReplyDeleteWell, I'm just reading this blog for the first time and chuckling to myself. Just a few years back when I was teaching, I distinctly remember speaking patronizingly to a lovely father who's daughter's French grade dropped from a consistent A to a consistent C because all of a sudden, he could never get her to school on time. What a pompous, childless ignoramous I was. He should have told me to walk a mile in his shoes.
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