Dear Esteemed Educators,
You may not know me as Emma or Sam’s, Lucas’s, Mia’s, or Zoe’s mom. This year, however, you will recognize me as That Parent. I’m embracing this title upfront to spare us both from any awkwardness down the line. You’re welcome.
First, let me express my deepest appreciation for all the hard work you do. You are, without a doubt, some of the most underappreciated and underpaid professionals out there. Please know that I value your efforts immensely. You are instrumental in preparing my children for a future where they can stand on their own two feet—hopefully before they turn 30.
As we set out on what promises to be a challenging school year, I feel it’s important to introduce myself and clarify a few things before any embarrassing moments arise in your classrooms.
This year marks a significant milestone for me: for the first time in 14 years, all five of my kids are in school full-time. I thought this would be the start of a fabulous new chapter. Spoiler alert: it’s a lot more demanding than I anticipated!
As for those forms I was supposed to sign—acknowledging that my child will run a mile every Monday and may have her picture taken—I assure you my delay is not due to a lack of support for exercise or school activities. I’m all for it! In fact, if you could capture more candid moments of my kids, that would be fantastic. I haven’t printed a photo since 2006, and my Shutterfly account is in a state of disarray!
The truth is, I’ve decided to take a break from sifting through backpacks. You have my permission to enforce any logical consequences for unsigned forms. If signing a consent form for that is necessary, we might have a standoff on our hands.
To the Music Teacher
My son Lucas is still without an instrument. He initially picked strings under the impression that electric guitar was an option. After a rude awakening, he settled on the cello, which, by the way, won’t fit in my car. As soon as he accepts this reality, I’ll get him a violin.
To the Language Arts Teacher
To the language arts teacher who gave my oldest, Mia, a “0” for not having To Kill a Mockingbird yet, I would like to remind you that Amazon is to blame this time. Their prices are just too tempting!
To the School Nurse
When your number shows up on my phone, my heart races. I’m relieved it’s not the principal, but then I panic when I find it’s you. I want to make it clear that if Lucas or Zoe isn’t throwing up or running a fever, please send them back to class! They seem to recover miraculously in front of a video game, so I suspect they’re fine most of the time.
To the Art Teachers
I apologize for my late supply payment. The initial cost was staggering enough to wipe out my Starbucks fund—without which, I’m sure you can understand, I can’t cope with additional expenses.
And on the subject of supplies, I’m quite relieved that toilet paper wasn’t on the list. I’ve heard some local schools require that, and wow, just wow.
To the Math Teachers
Please inform the kids that asking mom for help is, in fact, cheating. When my son Sam asked about the probability of selecting a red sock from a group of 6 red and 5 blue ones, I jokingly said it was probably the same as my chances of surviving the next decade, which I’m not sure about either!
That’s all for now; I’m quite worn out. If anyone is interested in joining me at the liquor store after 4:00 PM, I hear they have a 2-for-1 deal on margaritas. I’ll bring the straws!
Warm regards,
Emma, a.k.a. That Parent