Nearly Wordless Wednesday: Artist-a-Cat
National Grandparents Day: September 10, 2009 - Imperfection Is Hereditary

Is It Any Wonder I'm Not the President of the PTO

Apu's school picture

My father's school picture, taken in Hungary, during the 1950's, when they used to call each other, "Comrade!"

My in-laws turned me onto genealogy back in the 90's.  I still remember logging into AOL, taking a shower, making a cup of coffee, putting Heather (my middle girl) down for a nap and then quickly dusting the computer screen, or wiping up sticky spots on my desk -- it took THAT long to load a page.

Eventually, I added a few more kids to my family tree and, well, somehow the past took a backseat to planning for the future.

Today, I find myself unable to think passed deciding on which dropoff/pickup lane makes the most sense or, depending on what school I'm at, just what in the heck is his/her teacher's name, anyway?

Never mind, planning the next meal, without thinking, you know, this just may be my last.

"No, Heather has field hockey and my soccer practice was yesterday!"

Because, I swear, 3 days into the school year and it's already killing me.

"Hey, but I need another notebook!"

What?

"Oh, me too and here's the extra stuff my teacher needs!"

Huh?

"Yeah, me too and did you remember to sign the good behavior contract?"

Are you serious?

"Yeah, me too and we HAVE to use book socks!"

I thought recycling paper bags was a good thing?

"Mom, are you okay?"

No, I'm far from being okay.  In fact, I'm being held accountable for every little thing -- like, each time my kid sneezes, passes gas or laughs out loud (LOL, for you kids in the back) in class -- but, I realize that not everyone has 4 kids, attending 4 different schools, or is used to walking around in a perpetual state of confusion, like me.

"Yeah, yeah, fine."

Still, I can't help but wonder how my father's teacher would have reacted, if she received the following email:

Dear Comrade Teacher,

When dropping little **Jimmy off at school, I was surprised to learn that all the rumors were true.   

I mean, there was absolutely no place to park and the car pool lane reached all the way out onto the highway -- as far as Starbucks, even!  

So, I parked in the next town over and walked little **Jimmy to the door, but couldn't get to it, because about 100 parents beat me to it.  

Then, at the end of the day, the same thing happened, except, Jimmy came out a whole different door, from this morning and, well, I'm confused and **Jimmy is upset.  

Yours truly,

Comrade Parent

**I don't know anyone named Jimmy.

But, the rest of the stuff is true and I could have written to any one of the 4 schools my kids attend, really.

"My teacher said that you can pick me up at the same door that you drop me off in."

Phew...well, okay...glad that's over.

"What's for dinner?"

[blank stare]

"Never mind."

I mean, honestly, lunch is at 1:00 o'clock; how hungry can she be?

"I forgot to eat my lunch, today."

Never mind.

[Edited to add:  Recycling paper bags is okay - in fact, using old Christmas wrapping paper as book covers is okay, too - phew, glad that's over!]

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