It’s the first week of summer vacation and I am on a cloud because I slid right into home plate during the final days of school to score a winning “Working Moms Can Participate at School” point for us all. After ten months of school I was able to make good on the promises I made to be an active mom at school. (It should be noted that these promises were between me and myself and I am fairly adept at forgiving myself when I don’t deliver.)
I successfully ended the “Mommy, can you PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE work in the lunchroom today? Abby’s mom does it every week,” refrain.
So, I spent my lunch hour opening juice boxes and passing out forks. I left out my lectures on why you should eat vegetables before ice cream and just enjoyed the milk mustaches and sugar cookie entrees. I watched my Kindergartner diligently spreading cheese on the crackers I packed him just as I had imagined he would. When he first looked up and saw me there the joy on his face was priceless.
“Finally, you’re here,” he said. Ouch. “Can you be a Room Mom next year?” Sucker punched by a 6-year-old.
