Every year, after the first full week of school has passed, a letter comes home to announce the following:
“Dear parent,
On behalf of the administration and blank blank High School /Middle School, I invite you to Open House.. blah, blah, blah.”
My first thought is: “Oh, they’re inviting me? How nice to be included. Thank you. But I have other arrangements. To stay at home. And do nothing. See you in June.”
Honestly, I appreciate everything teachers do. But I do not want to do the Open House thing. Which is this: Park half a mile from the school, walk into a hot classroom and smile. I will have to introduce myself as so and so’s mom thinking maybe my kid gets a little extra credit. I should probably take notes about the class curriculum, but, instead, I will zone out for 10 minutes.
I think, “Can’t I just go to the liquor store and pick up a bottle of wine? It’s Thursday night for cripe’s sake.” But no. Because the next part of the letter reads: “This is an important night, as it allows you to meet your child’s teachers and learn about the things they will be studying this year..”
Shit.
I don’t want to go. Do I have to go?
If I don’t go. I’ll feel guilty.
I’ll go.
“Why go?” Cro Magnon says. “What’s in it for you? Are you going to do their homework for them?”
He’s right. For once.
I’ve decided.
I don’t have to go.
I’m not going.
And there’s nothing wrong with that. So I tell the kids. I say, no, announce, “Kids. I’m not going to Open House this year.”
And they’re all, “Nice, mom. Everybody else’s parents are going.”
Shit.
Alright. I’ll go. I’ll go. I’ll go. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CdcFYNe9U7A
Shit. I forgot to make dinner.
I scramble up a dinner for the kids. Hot dogs! And carrots and hummus to healthy it up a little. I throw it at them and tell them to sit down for five minutes so we can reap the health benefits of families who sit down for meals together.
And I’m going to Open House. I am so all over the mom thing.
When I get there, the teachers are standing in clusters of Ann Taylor Loft. I will be here an hour (a whole hour?) and, groan, I will spend 10 minutes each in science, math, ELA, social studies and foreign language. Like cattle, the parents are led through the hall to the first period class. ELA. The teacher is very enthusiastic about ELA. She smiles a lot. I smile back. I nod as she explains why she really loves to see the kids develop and grow. One parent takes notes. I wonder if I should too. Instead, I look at the clock.
Seven minutes to go.
Middle school hasn’t changed much.
I spend the next 45 minutes or so, listening to the teachers about curriculum and how they’re preparing the kids for high school and getting them to be more responsible…all good things. When the last bell of the night goes off, thanking us for attending Open House, I’m thrilled. And so are all the other parents. This wasn’t so bad at all, really. I don’t know what I was complaining about.
Then they announce there will be another Open House in the next few weeks.
And we’re all welcome to attend.
Shit.
Hang On Mom 