As if I needed another reminder that I am killing it as a parent, as I sat down to eat my breakfast at 10:45 AM and listen to last night's episode of Fresh Air, it hit me that the kids went to school for the second Friday in a row without their show and tell items. I will also add that when I found out that our kids' teachers scheduled a weekly show and tell, I was excited that our kids had teachers who value who my kids are as individuals and who see the importance of bringing a bit of home into school. I was filled with nostalgia of my own elementary school days of show and tell at St. James Catholic School--remembering once that a girl brought a real, live, breathing, and pooping sheep into class to show us (the rules were instantly changed to prevent live animals from coming to show and tell). I don't remember anything I brought, but I remember selecting my show and tell items and the excitement I felt the night before. I have such a fondness for show and tell, but I can't, for the life of me, remember to tell my freaking kids about it on Thursday nights.
When I realized we again neglected show and tell, I pictured my kids riffling through their backpacks for something to show. I knew Kylynn had a painted rock in her backpack I bought for her from some local mountain kids on my last trip to Colorado because she tried to give it to her teacher as a gift this week--so maybe she pulled that out to show and tell about. Maybe her teacher would even let her show and tell about a rock Kylynn painted especially for her teacher and gave to her this week. But Jon---what would he show? Since trying to smuggle in a squirt gun to school last year, he hasn't packed many random items in his backpack. The only thing his backpack contains is a folder for school, two library books, a note I gave him on the first day of school, and some crumpled math assignments that I'm sure are shoved in the bottom of his pack. The sentimental part of me likes to think he'd remember the note I wrote for him reminding him that I loved him and to be kind to others and proudly show this off as evidence of how much his momma loves him. But the more likely scenario is that he'd pull out the crumpled math assignments since they're easier to notice--he'd show these off and say something like, "Here's my math....my mom forgot about show and tell again" ousting me for the irresponsible, scattered momma that I am who is just freaking killing it at this parenting gig.
I am "off" on Tuesdays, Wednesday mornings and a bit of the afternoon, and Fridays. You'd think I could remember to add a cute, loving, Pinterest-y reminder on my kid's chalkboards to remind them to think about their show and tell schedule. I feel like I have no excuse for not remembering. However...now as I slow myself down enough to write, I realize that even though I'm not working at CCC on Tuesdays, Wednesday mornings, and Fridays, I'm still working at home chipping away at the ever-present pile of laundry or dishes, paying bills (usually on time), grabbing groceries, scheduling doctors appointments/oil changes/therapy sessions/hair cuts, cooking, scrubbing toothpaste off the counter (seriously kids, what the hell is with all the toothpaste?!), wiping my always sticky tables, and generally just getting shit done for my family so I can spend more time with them doing family things (like watching Netflix or playing games, each on our own device of course). I rarely sit down on my "off" days to do something for me.
When did moms come to be so critical of themselves? Is this our female disposition? Has it been since the advent of the internet when productivity became synonymous with being successful? Or did it happen with the social media boom? I'm not going to lie, at first I felt pretty shitty this morning about realizing we forgot show and tell again this week. Though, the more I write through this and take inventory of the things I do remember to do for my family, I don't feel so bad. Fellow mommas--if you're feeling like you're drowning today, please pause and take inventory of all you do for your families: You really are killing it.