The Courier & Advertiser (Fife Edition)
All those back-to-school lessons I haven’t learned
TThis is their party and they will cry if they want to
he schools are back and I’ve already blotted my copy book. I was late to pick my daughter up on her first day as a P3 pupil. In my defence, her school is like Hogwarts and I couldn’t find the correct door.
In the school’s defence, I encountered the same problem on her first day of P1.
If they would just provide me with a map then, maybe, we could avoid this in the future.
It got me thinking about all the back-toschool lessons that I probably should have learned by now, but haven’t.
The first is the hardest to stomach for the type A high achievers among us.
Prior preparation does not always prevent poor performance.
When it comes to school-age children, the old motivational slogan is nothing but a myth.
It doesn’t matter what you do the night before school.
You could have the clothes all laid out and ironed.
You could have their lunch and snack already made and – if you are so inclined – you could even print out a schedule for them to follow, to ensure the proceedings run smoothly.
But you’d be wasting your time.
You see, kids don’t care about your fancyschmancy wee schedule.
They will look at that schedule and laugh in your face.
They will laugh in your face and flecks of mushed-up cornflakes will launch from their open mouth to your open eye.
And you will find yourself wondering, not for the first time, how it came to be that somebody who can’t even tie their own shoelaces manages to exert such control over your household.
You could run your mornings with military precision and still your child will thwart you with unexpected information, seconds before you are due to leave the house.
They need a poo.
They forgot to tell you it’s dress up like your favourite statue day.
Their feet have grown overnight and suddenly their shoes are making them ouchy.
It doesn’t matter how organised you are; this is their party and they will cry if they want to.
We might as well submit to our tiny overlords and save ourselves the stress that comes with resisting.
The same goes for uniform.
I enjoy taking first-day-back photos because I know that it’s all downhill from there. Come 3pm, the shirt is untucked and muddy.
The tie is off and their new shoes have aged more prematurely than you have.
My daughter ignores my terrifying childhood tales of the army of nits that my mum always told me were ready to strike.
She is confident that Granny’s tyrannical use of the bone comb is a thing of the past and that I wouldn’t inflict the same on her.
Her school doesn’t have nits, she says. They must go somewhere else “cause I never even SEEN them, Mum”.
So, the excruciatingly tight ponytail that was mandatory when I was wee is pulled out and her hair is wild and free: a prime landing spot for all the critters that definitely do attend her school.
On her first day of P3, she came home sans hairband.
I counted that as a win, knowing how many other school items would soon end up in the dark bowels of the Lost and Never Found.
You can’t be too hard on them for leaving things behind during those first few weeks back though.
You don’t want to risk an encounter with the full force of their school-is-back emotions.
A combination of over-excitement, exhaustion and information overload makes our little darlings unreasonable and prone to fits of anger.
I’ve learned to ride it out now. It never lasts long, but, by God, they sure make it count.
The tears, the angst, the mood-swings: now I know how Donald Trump’s staffers felt.
Mood-swings aside, it’s great to see children back in class. They’ve had two years of disrupted schooling because of the pandemic and we should do everything we can to ensure that this year is as normal as possible for them.
For parents, that normal might often be frustrating and time-consuming.
But the pandemic taught us parents a valuable lesson: organising them for school is nowhere near as stressful as teaching them ourselves.