A Letter to Those of Us Who Have Reached Our Limit
Readers that are handling this all well. Parents that are taking last day of school pics and matching them up with first day of school pics, and just really handling it. I’m not sure this is for you. You might need to look away for a minute. It’s about to get crazy, it’s about to get turnt.
My husband just drove us through a goodbye celebration at our children’s school. He drove us around like paparazzi, My son sat beside me and my daughter sat in the passenger seat, so that they could wave to their teachers. We went through and you could feel the energy, the teachers were yelling like they were at a Bon Jovi concert, the principal was crying. I saw the pre-k teachers and I instantly lost it. I went back in time. Zipped right back there and I was packing her bag for pre-k, putting in the crackers and the juice, just so, slipping her folder into the back of her bag and her extra pair of clothes in the extra zipper. I was holding her hand at daycare, watching her get on the bus next to her friend Blake. They were little, looking at each other nervously, with shoes that were a little too big for them and clothes that had just recently had the tag ripped off from Oshkosh. Oh my gosh, Oshkosh. I miss all those clothes.
If you are thinking this lady is about to lose it. You would be correct. As we were driving through, I really had a vision of myself, just pulling the emergency break and ripping across the lawn, jumping on several staff members at once to thank them. It is West Gardiner and so there is probably an electric fence somewhere, but I really just considered it, if only for a minute. A part of me. The darkest part, just thinks, screw it. Let these freakin kids be together, let them walk across a stage, or go through the school, or go down the slide one last time. Chunk it social distancing, chunk it masks. I don’t know how you senior mommas are doing it. I’m freakin, just from the rule following of it all and the non-hugging everywhere.
Tomorrow, I say goodbye to my own second graders in a different parade and I am VERY concerned that I will at one moment be holding a hand drawn sign and looking fairly pathetic so that a parent might think is this some sad kind of car wash that I should participate in? Is this woman okay? And the next I am running towards a vehicle, pulling that little person from the vehicle and giving them an Andre-the-Giant hug.
Look, I get it, safety first. Totally , totally get it. But then in the next minute, you know, everyone knows these kids are seeing each other right? Just because Fun Town shut down, doesn’t mean Suzi and Jenny aren’t spending the night and that pool dates are outlawed. The dark zone of me thinks just let kids graduate and let kids put on their cap and gowns with all their buddies and take all their pictures with their grandparents and go play their sports and just be kids, just be the devilish humans that they were before this all started.
I also know this is blasphemy and tomorrow I will get all my shit together. I’m sorry Doctor Shah, I’m sorry Commissioner Lambrew and the interpreters, I’m sorry UNE that is making supplies for us so that we don’t suck so hard in this part of the country. I apologize to all of you for this blog post. But us rule followers, us detention hall monitors, sometimes we have just had enough, and we need to freak out a little. And that is me tonight. Tomorrow the rant and the rave will be over and I will drink a diet coke in Dr. Shah’s honor, but tonight, I am a fireworks display of emotion.