School’s Out
As a working mother of four children, I did not
look forward to the end of the school year. It didn’t matter what age the
children were, the last two weeks were a marathon of events. I was never sure I
would survive to the end.
“Mom, I cannot possibly pick my brother up from
ball practice tomorrow. I have a test in calculus day after tomorrow. There is
a picnic at the park Friday for choir members. Can you bake some peanut butter
cookies for that? Please. Do you know where that picture of me with Pam and
Jennie from the 8th grade is? A bunch of kids are going to the show Saturday
night. Can I go? I have twenty pages to read for history before the final on
Monday and my term paper for Mrs. Spencer is due next Tuesday. It can’t be
late. This is the most stressful week I will ever have in my life,” my older
daughter said flinging shoes, old assignments and her flute from her closet
floor. “What was it you wanted me to do now?”
So, the next afternoon I picked my older son up from
ball practice in time to take him to his friend’s birthday party. Then I ran to
the store and bought ingredients for cupcakes (a cake mix and canned
frosting…it’s been a long time since I baked from scratch). My younger son’s
class’s end-of-school trip to the park was the next day and somehow I got
committed to send cupcakes. Fortunately I remembered to buy peanut butter while
at the store.
“Will you take my friends and me to the mall on
Saturday, Mom, please?” my second daughter begged. “I’m bored. There’s nothing
to do here, ever…oh, I forgot to tell you, there’s an orchestra concert
tonight. I have to be there by 6:15."
Time has blurred my memory of most of the activities.
My older daughter is now married with three school age children of her own. She
teaches middle school and coaches high school swimming. Even she knows she has experienced
more stressful weeks than the one before her high school graduation.
While the days leading up to the school year’s end
were challenging, the first day school was out for the summer was always a
tough day too, especially when the children were too young to drive to summer
jobs yet too old to go to daycare or a sitter. There were always many phone
calls to me at work.
“Mom, can I ride my bicycle on the highway?”
“Mom, I’m hungry.”
“Mom, I gave the cat a bath. What towel can I use
to dry him with when I find him?”
“Mom, Susie touched me on my arm.”
“Mom, I’m hungry.”
“Mom, can I have a drink of pop?”
“Mom, the toilet has a crack in it and it is
getting the floor all wet.”
“Mom, I’m hungry, what can I eat?”
I survived. Every year, somehow, I survived. And,
so did the kids…and yes, the cat survived too.
Did I mention how beautiful his fur looked after
his bath? Of course, it took an hour to coax him out from under the bed, but he
looked great!