What is that beeping sound and why is it blaring in my ear?!
Lucky us - school is back in session! You can approach the start of school in one of two ways – make that two and a half –
70% of you will most likely kiss the sidewalk outside the front doors of the school as you watch your three precious darlings trot down the hall to their next torture victims. It’s truly a religious moment for many mothers: play-dates have devolved into fight-dates as the summer drags out and the high temps drag on; your kids have figured out that you’re spending at least 30 minutes a day sitting in your closet while pretending you can’t hear anyone calling your name; they’re catching on that while your lips are moving when you’re sitting in the car with phone in hand - you might actually just be talking to yourself; family reunions in hot parks eating wilted food have found you questioning the genetic implications of your spouses’ lineage; and the "fun" family vacations have put you on a first name basis with a real estate agent in St. Bart’s and a lawyer in the nearest big city.
30% of you will roll over, hit snooze, wonder why it’s so dark out – and why did that alarm go off?! - and snuggle back under the covers! Of these 30%, 25% will resign yourselves to getting up at Zero - dark thirty, dragging your children out of bed, begging them to eat a Snickers for breakfast as you blast through the school zone while begging God to help you make it before the bell rings so you don’t have to enter the elementary school (no less) sans-bra to sign in your children. The other 5% will immediately swear off public or private education while simultaneously placing an order with Scholastic.com for home schooling materials and Googling “non-flammable science experiments”.
Having personally labeled 240 crayons with my daughter’s initials at 1AM while trying to imagine how in the world she’ll manage to put 30 glue sticks to use, I fall between the “praise to the celestial beings on high that summer is over” and “surely you’re kidding that ANYONE is up at this hour?” camps.
As you’re well aware, it’s not just our children that get hauled back to reality at the end of August. We too must commit to embracing the day at Zero - dark thirty; to begging children to attempt their daily homework; to packing boring lunches that are – remarkably enough – better than the “assorted cans of fruit” offered on the school menu; to endless shuttling to piano, dance, karate, soccer, <insert at least four activities here requiring hauling multiple children through loads of lights begging the traffic signal gods to help you make it on time and then contemplating how to fit in the 17 errands that must be run during the 45 – make that 43 – minutes you now have while your progeny are engaged in languid self-improvement>.
Most importantly, we have to confront – with an alarming amount of enthusiasm - the many, many, many opportunities to sign away any chance of reading “Anna Karenina” during a cool evening on the back porch (or at Cracker Barrel where the rocking chair selection is truly a Book Club’s dream). You know the signs – leaflets on telephone poles, exceedingly gregarious “neighbors” at the crosswalks, mini-van windows rolled down for a quick street catch-up, luncheon after luncheon after luncheon. A veritable plethora of volunteer opportunities (eg. a chance to make a difference, a minimal time commitment to give so and so a hand, a few weeks to pull together a nearly pulled together event, <insert euphemism for “volunteer” here>, etc.) are sprung on the somewhat unsuspecting around the second week of September. A steroidal song of calendar overdrive sung by anyone suddenly finding themselves with an hour or two on their hands! You might ask - how do Pearl and Mercedes choose to fill any spare moment that might otherwise be spent learning a new language, continuing our education, or sitting on the sofa staring the ceiling? A few places where we chose to spread the joy include:
The Community Spouses Club: a seemingly wholesome group of adults who gather to plan and organize events within the community - for the community (remember the scholarships which benefit our children and ourselves!) On the other hand, this club periodically devolves into a gathering place for spouses who want proclaim themselves the "who’s who” of your post. Of course, cliques and power groups will erupt naturally in any social group - and so goes the Community club which lends itself nicely to the wives who want to wear their husband's rank. Fear not - find the fun loving people along the back of the wall (purchasing wine with their luncheon meals) and meet some outlet mall shopping buddies.
PTA: Truly the place we all need to be if we have children in school. Pearl and Mercedes prefer to focus on spoiling the teachers which control their children's grades - but - we find it important to remember the secretaries who influence the tardy roster! Cookies and treats are always welcome!
Your Unit: Ho - Ho - Ho (and not the one hanging out on D Street in Killeen, Texas) - we are talking about the man with the snowy white beard who slides down your chimney and leaves bikes with huge red bows under the Christmas tree for your beautiful children (you know - the gift you finally got off lay-a-way - but for which you can assume no credit!). It is already time to consider the unit Christmas party. Time to plan the events, food and children's activities - is your pen at the ready?! (We prefer purple ink for signing away many hours of one’s life with a flourish!)
The hymns we sing to the goddess teachers of our children are intermingled with the bowed heads with which we enter each volunteer situation. On bended knee we consider whether the best use of our time will be with our units, families or communities on and off post. We’re there with you – Pearl is on the stage, pen in hand, taking names of tardy attendees while Mercedes is sitting in the back wondering if the door will squeak as she tries to sneak out after signing in prominently on the first page of the roster. The solace in our lives is that it truly "takes a Post" to create and sustain our military lives!
What do you think?
70% of you will most likely kiss the sidewalk outside the front doors of the school as you watch your three precious darlings trot down the hall to their next torture victims. It’s truly a religious moment for many mothers: play-dates have devolved into fight-dates as the summer drags out and the high temps drag on; your kids have figured out that you’re spending at least 30 minutes a day sitting in your closet while pretending you can’t hear anyone calling your name; they’re catching on that while your lips are moving when you’re sitting in the car with phone in hand - you might actually just be talking to yourself; family reunions in hot parks eating wilted food have found you questioning the genetic implications of your spouses’ lineage; and the "fun" family vacations have put you on a first name basis with a real estate agent in St. Bart’s and a lawyer in the nearest big city.
30% of you will roll over, hit snooze, wonder why it’s so dark out – and why did that alarm go off?! - and snuggle back under the covers! Of these 30%, 25% will resign yourselves to getting up at Zero - dark thirty, dragging your children out of bed, begging them to eat a Snickers for breakfast as you blast through the school zone while begging God to help you make it before the bell rings so you don’t have to enter the elementary school (no less) sans-bra to sign in your children. The other 5% will immediately swear off public or private education while simultaneously placing an order with Scholastic.com for home schooling materials and Googling “non-flammable science experiments”.
Having personally labeled 240 crayons with my daughter’s initials at 1AM while trying to imagine how in the world she’ll manage to put 30 glue sticks to use, I fall between the “praise to the celestial beings on high that summer is over” and “surely you’re kidding that ANYONE is up at this hour?” camps.
As you’re well aware, it’s not just our children that get hauled back to reality at the end of August. We too must commit to embracing the day at Zero - dark thirty; to begging children to attempt their daily homework; to packing boring lunches that are – remarkably enough – better than the “assorted cans of fruit” offered on the school menu; to endless shuttling to piano, dance, karate, soccer, <insert at least four activities here requiring hauling multiple children through loads of lights begging the traffic signal gods to help you make it on time and then contemplating how to fit in the 17 errands that must be run during the 45 – make that 43 – minutes you now have while your progeny are engaged in languid self-improvement>.
Most importantly, we have to confront – with an alarming amount of enthusiasm - the many, many, many opportunities to sign away any chance of reading “Anna Karenina” during a cool evening on the back porch (or at Cracker Barrel where the rocking chair selection is truly a Book Club’s dream). You know the signs – leaflets on telephone poles, exceedingly gregarious “neighbors” at the crosswalks, mini-van windows rolled down for a quick street catch-up, luncheon after luncheon after luncheon. A veritable plethora of volunteer opportunities (eg. a chance to make a difference, a minimal time commitment to give so and so a hand, a few weeks to pull together a nearly pulled together event, <insert euphemism for “volunteer” here>, etc.) are sprung on the somewhat unsuspecting around the second week of September. A steroidal song of calendar overdrive sung by anyone suddenly finding themselves with an hour or two on their hands! You might ask - how do Pearl and Mercedes choose to fill any spare moment that might otherwise be spent learning a new language, continuing our education, or sitting on the sofa staring the ceiling? A few places where we chose to spread the joy include:
The Community Spouses Club: a seemingly wholesome group of adults who gather to plan and organize events within the community - for the community (remember the scholarships which benefit our children and ourselves!) On the other hand, this club periodically devolves into a gathering place for spouses who want proclaim themselves the "who’s who” of your post. Of course, cliques and power groups will erupt naturally in any social group - and so goes the Community club which lends itself nicely to the wives who want to wear their husband's rank. Fear not - find the fun loving people along the back of the wall (purchasing wine with their luncheon meals) and meet some outlet mall shopping buddies.
PTA: Truly the place we all need to be if we have children in school. Pearl and Mercedes prefer to focus on spoiling the teachers which control their children's grades - but - we find it important to remember the secretaries who influence the tardy roster! Cookies and treats are always welcome!
Your Unit: Ho - Ho - Ho (and not the one hanging out on D Street in Killeen, Texas) - we are talking about the man with the snowy white beard who slides down your chimney and leaves bikes with huge red bows under the Christmas tree for your beautiful children (you know - the gift you finally got off lay-a-way - but for which you can assume no credit!). It is already time to consider the unit Christmas party. Time to plan the events, food and children's activities - is your pen at the ready?! (We prefer purple ink for signing away many hours of one’s life with a flourish!)
The hymns we sing to the goddess teachers of our children are intermingled with the bowed heads with which we enter each volunteer situation. On bended knee we consider whether the best use of our time will be with our units, families or communities on and off post. We’re there with you – Pearl is on the stage, pen in hand, taking names of tardy attendees while Mercedes is sitting in the back wondering if the door will squeak as she tries to sneak out after signing in prominently on the first page of the roster. The solace in our lives is that it truly "takes a Post" to create and sustain our military lives!
What do you think?
- Glue sticks or Rubber cement?
- Spouses Club or Wine Club?
- Remember your favorite excuse for not having completed homework as a child – is it similar in any way to the excuse you’re about to use to dodge that volunteer request?
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