My son is a Junior in high school and I can tell you that it wears off sooner as the years pass by.
New school clothes and supplies, by January things are covered in duct tape (that stuff comes in colors now) and I'm making false promises to buy new ones just as soon as I go shopping.
This is followed by daily lists for my husband to "grab" something on his way home and let me tell you....I can drag it out for six weeks without leaving the house!
By February there's a whole lot of whining, "But I don't wanna go! That's stupid! Can't you just write me a note?"
To which my son always replies, "No mom, I don't write like you."
March I'm usually facedown in the carpet immobile.
I stopped making dinners a long time ago, "Just crack open a Lunchable." Lunches consist of a pre-packaged brownie I scrounged from the back of the Lazy Susan, just wipe off the dust. And breakfast? What's that?
Last night I offered Pringles for dinner, to which he replied, "Tempting..." until I found some leftover taco neat in the freezer. 2 1/2 minutes later I was back to being a rug.
Posting real pictures of my epic fails? Won't happen because I can't lift a camera, my phone, or a crayon to draw a pic, that's how truly exhausted I am.
A stain on your jacket? Turn it inside out for Heaven's sake! You couldn't tell me before 10:00pm?!?
"What do you mean you lost your toothbrush around Christmas? I'm pretty sure you didn't tell me that. No, I'm pretty sure I would have remembered (maybe not). Well, chew some gum and I'll get you one next time I go shopping."
I stopped checking for homework months ago. I have no idea what's in the backpack that now looks like it's been recovered by FEMA. "School's almost out, do you really need a new one?"
When I get the late night visit with a paper in hand, "Mom?" I die a little inside because I know it's going to require more than a passive answer. I actually have to read something and for the love of God is he holding a pen, too?
Damn, it needs a signature which means I really have to read it, not just pretend, pick out key words to regurgitate and get it over with. I struggle not to sigh audibly.
School ends mid June here and there's so much time left. I was notified there will be another play and choir performance. Both mean practices. That means I have to find something I own that doeasn't make me look like a homeless person, actually wash my hair that's been dreadlocked into a bun for months, and leave the house!
Damn it all!
Why are they still doing projects? Things that require me to go buy stuff and help. Why can't kids just color the last month like they used to? What happened to fun days outside, ice cream parties, and teachers giving up by May? Nobody should be that devoted for so little money!
My husband leaves the parenting to me. Probably because he sees the bags under my eyes and the harried look on my face. I give periodic reports and he's satisfied. Maybe it's just the smell of the clothes I've been in for three days straight, too tired to shower.
I love summers. My kid stays up all night playing video games online, sleeps all day and I have a somewhat normal schedule. I leave pizzas on the stove, like feeding wildlife. I get a lot of quiet time to recouperate after a long hard year.
There are parents I know that are still going strong with a house full. These are the parents doing the Pinterest success pins and making the rest of the world feel inferior when they can't do those projects with the same results. By the way, I secretly hate you through my fake smile.
Sidenote: I hate you is what I said through clenched teeth at parent night, to which you replied cheerfully, "Awww, thanks!"
And we're supposed to give a gift to the teacher? The same one who's homework assignment had me at Walmart buying a new printer cartridge at midnight? Pffft.
Yeah, I know I gave up months ago, but I still have to pretend to be a part of it all and that's pretty hard work in itself!