People, I love my children dearly. Really! I wouldn't keep getting myself knocked up if I didn't. BUT: here we are, the last week before Christmas break, my last few precious hours of freedom. And instead of finishing all the last minute errands I need to do, instead of even just taking a nap (this is legitimate when you are pregnant!), instead I am having to wake up the baby from HER precious nap and attend the living torture that is the Kiddie Holiday Party.
Multiple times.
Here is my schedule:
Today: Colette Christmas party, 1:45 pm.
Thursday: Rory Christmas party, 11:00 am.
Colette Christmas program, 1 pm. (WHY? WHY? Isn't one event enough?)
Keane Christmas party, 1:15 pm.
Friday: Will Christmas party, 10:15 am.
Notice that I am required to be in two places at once on Thursday, which of course is not quite possible. So PVT will attend one party, and I the other - unlike a lot of dads around here, if PVT attended every single kiddie function, he would not be employed.
These parties are miserable affairs, you all. You have to park eight miles away from the school, because every other parent is there too. Unless you are wise or lucky enough to find a sitter, you may be schlepping an unwilling, tired baby with you. You go to your child's overheated classroom, filled with 26 kids and about 40 adults, and stand around while your kid makes a craft and eats holiday cupcakes. Sometimes the younger kids will sing a song or two, but the older ones don't do that. Yet you are still "invited" to come! Usually I will cheerfully sit with my kid - after all, I'm happy enough to see said kid - until he starts begging to be "checked out." If I refuse, said kid will sulk the rest of the party, and I am left chasing a grumpy toddler around a hot, crowded room, trying to stop her from eating the teacher's glue and knocking down all her pens.
Oh dear teachers. We buy you gifts every single year. Please consider a gift to us parents: a party-free December. Or at least host a party we don't have to attend.
1 comments:
Jill--
I wholeheartedly agree! They are torture! Kaitlin's Mother's Day out had a "Christmas parade" at 10am which is an hour after drop off. She cries when I drop her off. No way I was going to come back to watch her be pulled in a wagon across stage--and the teacher looked at me like I was heartless. She would have seen me, leapt out of wagon, and cried until I relented and took her home. No thanks!
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