For all intents and purposes we have had a pretty smooth school year. Only one minor hiccup on an after-school pick-up. No big oversights on school programs or class parties. I didn’t inadvertently take a kid school in pajamas when it wasn’t pajama day (though that is one of my top mom fears).
As school was winding down I got a smidge over-confident about how smoothly things had gone. And if there’s anything I’ve learned in parenting it is to never get over-confident. When you’re cocky, you make your biggest mistakes.
As I was filling in my May calendar, penciling in summer ball games and graduation parties, I boldly marked May 26th as the Last Day Of School. It was to be a half day and I had already planned to take the day off work so I could be available for the end-of-the-year party and then take the crew out for lunch.
Super prepared, right?
Imagine my surprise on May 12th when I got a text message from the bus assistant, Joyce, who helps our youngest on her bus ride to preschool. It read “Tell Rosie to have a great summer. I’m going to miss her.” Wait. What?? Have a great summer? Uh, that would imply that Joyce wasn’t going to have an opportunity to tell Rosie herself because she was either planning a major surgery, moving, or I HAD MISSED THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL!!!!! A quick check of the school calendar in my daughter’s backpack verified my fear: the final day of preschool was May 12, a full 14 days before the big kids were dismissed for summer break.
Too embarrassed to acknowledge my faux pas, I simply responded “Thanks so much for all you’ve done this year. We appreciate you so much!” I might be scatterbrained and I might not know when school is over but I am thankful, by golly. Mind you, I generally show my thankfulness with a handwritten note and a small gift of appreciation but I had clearly missed the boat getting Joyce a gift.
Which led to my next thought: I hadn’t gotten Rosie’s teachers a teacher appreciation gift. It was Teacher Appreciation Week!! My stomach sank as I realized the implications. As smooth as the whole rest of the year had gone, I’d blown it right at the end. I’d fumbled the ball at the end zone. I’d dropped a Mom Bomb. A big one.
You better believe that as the days ticked by for the big kids, I was prepared. I had a nice gift ready to go for Caleb, my only kiddo in elementary school right now, along with a handwritten note thanking his teacher for making his 4th grade year a success. I showed up for the class party and participated in the fun, silly games. As I was packing Caleb’s stuff at the end of the day, his teacher handed me a thank you note.
We went out for a celebratory Chinese buffet lunch, so I didn’t get around to reading the thank you note from Caleb’s teacher until a few hours later. In it, she thanked me for the trinkets I’d gifted her and then added that she also wanted to thank me for being a great, supportive mom throughout the year. The token gift I had remembered to give her mattered…but so did the whole rest of the year.
She doesn’t even know it but Caleb’s teacher’s kind words allowed me to give myself a little bit of grace for completely failing the end of the year for Rosie. Sure, her fantastic teachers and assistants and bus helpers didn’t get a gift from me and that stinks because they truly deserved one. But the whole rest of the year hasn’t been a total fail. I’ve shown up for teachers meetings, I have sent loads of snacks for snacks days, I haven’t been late for a drop off, and I did manage to pass along a few gifts at Christmas time.
Sure, the timing of my Mom Bomb was unfortunate but I’m guessing that those teachers and assistants and bus helpers were so excited about summer break that they wasted little time worrying about the lack of gifts from our family. I suppose I should follow their lead and quit worrying about it too.
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About Abbie Mabary: I am mom to 3 (sweet, crazy, adorable, infuriating) children and wife to the most patient man on the planet. My kiddos are Emma (age 10), Evan (8), Caleb (7). I’m trying to appreciate the calm before the tsunami of hormones hits our home in a few short years.
