Having two grown kids (18 and 17) and two elementary school-aged kids (10 and 7) makes me feel a lot like I have two sets of kids. The big girls and the little kids. That's how we refer to them.
I was in my mid-20s when I had the first set. It was a very exciting time for me. I looked forward to the challenges and the experiences that lay ahead. Being a full-time working mom with a busy schedule was going to be so fun! I was enthusiastic about volunteering at the school (most notably when I was room mother for both girls" classrooms for more years than I can remember) and I knew most of the parents. I hosted play dates and get-togethers and spent a lot of my free time helping out my kids" teachers.
By the time I got the big girls through fifth grade and on their way to middle school, I was exhausted and less sane. Lucky for me, they were pretty much over my being so involved in their school (and their lives, for that matter).
I had officially retired from my other job known as "that" mom.
Then …
I had my second set of kids. This time, I was in my 30s. I don't know what it was about this second go-round, but I was less than enthusiastic about volunteering. I found myself quickly deleting e-mails from the teachers when they asked for help. Whether it was chaperoning the middle school dance or driving kids to the botanical gardens for a field trip, I was unavailable. And continue to be.
Since the little kids started school, I haven't been room mom. I don't know many of the parents, and I don't attend many of the functions. When I pick them up every day, I stand off by myself and watch as (mostly) moms gather in small clusters and exchange stories and compare calendars and make plans to get together. And sometimes I wonder what's wrong with me. I could very easily go up to any one of them (they all seem really nice) and start a conversation. I could respond "yes" to the e-mail asking for volunteers to help sell sodas after school on Fridays or be chairperson on one of the many committees. But, I haven't.
I'm in my 40s now and don't feel like the woman I was nearly 20 years ago when I first became a mother. Sometimes I envy the younger, go-get-"em moms who seem so eager to be all in the middle of it. I even feel a little guilty, like I'm not doing enough for my kids. I beat up myself about it one night so much that I considered e-mailing the school office and volunteering to head-up the Box Tops for Education campaign. And then I woke up sober. Thank God. I mean, I'm crazy when it comes to collecting Box Tops. I can't imagine what my brain would do if I was surrounded by them every day.
But still. I live with the guilt.
I know I do a lot for my kids. Just not at school. We bake and we craft and we go to movies and we travel and we play and … the list goes on and on. They don't complain about my lack of involvement or ask why I don't go on field trips. I send cupcakes to their teachers. I buy way too many raffle tickets. I donate ungodly amounts of Silly String for the Fall Festival.
And then there's the whole Box Tops thing. Yes, I'm still collecting them; it's now become a full-blown obsession. (See: September 2012, page 110.)
All these things I do (I think) mostly because in my head it (somewhat) makes up for the parts where I'm lacking.
Anyone got any Box Tops they want to unload?
