I generally like September. The end of summer, that start of fall, the changing of the leaves and sweater weather. September was always like a fresh notebook waiting to be filled, a return to routine that I was so ready for.
But this year, I learned the truth about September. September is not the season of boots (hell it going to be 90 today) and pumpkin spice lattes, no September is the season of paperwork and fundraisers. It is the season of lunch menus, school calendars and endless requests to volunteer. It’s 4:00 Parents Club Meetings, even though your kid doesn’t get off the bus till 4, not to mention that some parents work. It’s the season of volunteering to be the class mom and realizing that if you hadn’t no one else would have.
It’s the season of forgetting it’s silly hat day. And forgetting the deadline for the god-awful wrapping paper fundraiser. It’s the season of wondering are we selling mums this week or chocolate. Should I buy a book from scholastic or pass? Will my son be heartbroken when he realizes we forgot silly hat day?
It’s a pile of papers I can’t seem to control and a pile of homework that is more torture for me than its teaching him. It’s sports practices on Friday night. It’s trying to figure out which website or portal is relevant to the school year and then pouring a glass of wine and not bothering with the websites because the 2 folders that come home every day are enough.
It’s an endless cycle of guilt. A feeling that you aren’t doing enough. That you are forgetting something. That the routine you desperately craved is not happening. It’s confusing the reading log and the homework folder and worrying about losing library books and hoping your kid wore sneakers on gym day. It’s juggling while people keep throwing more balls at you.
It’s after school meltdowns and regretting your decision to sign up for after-school activities. It’s being lecturing on box tops by parents club and that feeling of anger that rises up inside because you think box tops are a shameful way to fund education.
It’s the abrupt end of a lazy summer and all of this dropped on your lap while you are still recovering from having the kids off for 10 weeks.
September I used to love you but, I’m hoping that October is where it’s at.