My not so baby girl, Grace, starts grade 6 on Monday (God help me). Albi, at the ripe old age of 6, starts his first year in primary school as he heads into grade 1.
Now typically you’d think I should be all abuzz with frantic preparations and giddy anticipation for the big day. Well, you’d be sorely mistaken.
I’m more pumped that they are going to be out of my hair and under someone else’s care for 6 hours to tell the truth.
Now don’t come at me with your flawless reasoning and emotional badgering because frankly, I don’t give two fifths of fuck all. You go ahead and enjoy your ethereal journey into the new school year (especially you first time parents), I don’t begrudge you that at all, but don’t feel you can pass judgement on me for just wanting the little angels gone for the day. And the next 4 days after that.
Let’s face it, day in day out with kids in tow is Fucking. Hard. Work.
Hence my almost reverential appreciation for teachers. I mean seriously, could you imagine rocking up to a job that you know you are being grossly underpaid for, and having to be happily upbeat whilst attempting to educate and manage 25+ of the little buggers for 6 hours every weekday??
Jesus..it makes hell sound good.
Anyway.. I found myself all stressed out a day or two ago about the upcoming start of the school year, but I managed to pull myself up before total meltdown (again, is there anything wine can’t do?), where I realised there was no need. It’s just another day right? True. So I decided there and then to make a stand.
I refuse to cowtow to the picture perfect lunch box. Nup, I will supply my kids with whatever nutritional stuff they will eat and not throw in the bin, trade for chocolate or leave in their bag to rot.
I don’t see why the first day of school demands freshly cut hair and a completely new wardrobe, ffs; I’m lucky to get them to brush their hair and brush their teeth most days so why push it? And for God’s sake, there is nothing wrong with last year’s schoolbag and lunch box; nothing a double wash won’t fix. What is this, Desperate Parents of Primary School? I don’t know who these “Joneses” are, but I can guarantee they are not worth being kept up with. Superficial wankers.
Why is there so much pressure on both parents and children to completely overhaul a working system of dress, food and routine, carefully cultivated over months of trial an error, just because our dear little cherubs move up a year level? It’s not like they have been nominated for an Oscar and are on show to the world..although maybe us parents should be 😉
Well I for one am calling bullshit. Shenanigans. Time out. Enough!
I will be that parent that rocks up to school with a manic grin, high fiving anyone who looks sideways at me. Not for the admiration that my children have been elevated to the next level in our antiquated education system. Not because I’m excited for the year ahead. Not because I have managed to supply them with the CSIRO determined correct amount of protein for the day or that their clothes have been ironed, for once.
No, if you run into me and I look kinda leftfield crazy.. I’m just stoked that I’m staring down the barrel of 6 hours of me time. To work. Clean the house. Wash some clothes. Do some food shopping.
It really doesn’t matter.
They are not with me.
Now don’t get me wrong. Or do so if you wish, again.. Two fifths..
I adore my kids. I love holidays and the freedoms provided by such. But I challenge any of you to deny that school is a bloody great provider: Of (😂) education. Of social integration. Of personal growth. Of routine and order.
Of TIME AWAY FROM US.
I wish you all, and your kids, a happy start to the year..
Separately. ✌️