Most days when I pick up Owen from preschool there are 2 worksheets in his cubby. ( he has his own cubby, how cute is that). One is the “art activity” of the day (aka a coloring sheet), and Owen’s is usually mostly blank. The other is his daily report. It lists what they learned, what books they read and anything else they did that day. The bottom is my favorite. It has 3 categories: Today at lunch I….. Today at rest time….and finally My character today. It then gives options like “ I ate everything”, “I wasn’t hungry” , “I slept”, “ I was quiet” and then for the character list …Today I was “ attentive”, “mischevious”, “followed directions”, “lively” and many others. I look forward to reading it and sometimes question if they are really talking about my kid ( his always says he slept, ate everything and followed directions………3 things he never does at home). I have started wondering what people would circle about me at the end of the day, particularly in the character department. Was I patient and loving? Did I notice a need around me……..or was I grumpy, tired and stressed. I wonder how much we would alter these 3 basic things: what we eat, the amount of rest we get and our character if we knew we were getting a grade?
I do the math on my hand. This is my 5th end of the year dance recital and you think by now I’d know to remember to pack hair spray and snacks. Someone hands my daughter a bag of chips and I want to hug her. I want to tell her that I am not a total failure, that we did not lose the wristbands, we wore the right color tights and that I do at least have a few bobby pins in my pocket. I can not handle the crazy that is backstage. It is a whirlwind of squealing girls in sequins, lycra and tulle. Moms wielding curling hours and more eye makeup than the entire MAC counter, I start to sweat in my ponytail. I quickly look away as an entire row of dancers peel off EVERYTHING for a quick costume change. I was not made for this. I unashamedly let an eight-year-old I have never met teach me how to get my daughter’s hair in place and I make the fastest exit I can. We sit in the balcony. Where we have been for hours. Dance recital day is all consuming. Rehersal, hair and finding the right ti...
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