“Mom! You missed another PTO meeting. It was the last one! We talked about our theme for next year!” stated my concerned 8-year-old.


Of course I missed it, just like I’ve missed every other PTO meeting since November.

It’s May – in case you weren’t aware.

I could blame my forgetful attitude on the fact that I had a baby 10 weeks ago and have been a bit distracted. But the truth? I’m like this every year.

Once May hits, I’m 100% over it.

Signing school papers? Nope.

Book orders? Kid has to remind me 20 times.

Spelling tests? You’re still having those?

Lunch? Do you need to eat today? Your dad makes those anyway.

I just can’t.

Apparently, I missed teacher appreciation week or day or month too? I mean, gosh dang I love my kids’ teachers. Truly. They are incredible. But can’t I just get them all a big gift card at the end of the year to make up for everything I forgot during the school year?

And I know the teachers are 100% over it too. I don’t blame them one bit. And with that you might say, “Oh, Leslie. They are keeping a good attitude, so should you.”

Blah. The good attitude left in April, or January.

It’s my fault, really. I recognize this fact. The end of the school year means everything else picks up. Dance recitals and basketball camps. Bible school nights, swim lessons, gymnastics and theatre classes. What happened to a good old fashioned summer where the kids run around and play in mud puddles while the parents sit outside with no pants on drinking spiked lemonade?

That’s my dream. It never really happened, although I love the thought.

I haven’t signed my Kindergartners school folder since January.

I’m losing my mind.

I have such good intentions each year. I love the fresh smell of pencils and a new opportunity for my babies to learn. And the silence the start of school brings to my home is golden. I hang papers on bulletin boards and purchase totes for each of my kids’ school work. I clean the closets and organize shoes and shorts and jeans, all in preparation for a great year.

But by May? By May I want to burn every piece of hot glue stringy craft and start over.

Last Friday morning while my girls were busy at school, I sat in my office with the windows open, the birds chirping and a sleeping baby by my side. I was getting so much work done. I was also high on coffee and Friday vibes – until I heard it.

Laughter. Too much laughter for a normal Friday. The laughter was followed by the sound of adult voices. Too loud for just teacher voices.

Then I remembered – Field Day.

“Ugh! Field Day! Why didn’t my phone remind me?” I uttered, knowing the phone can’t remind me when I fail to put in the information.

Stupid end of year stuff.

I looked at the clock. Field day was already half over. And my baby was sleeping so beautifully. I could either pack him up and risk a screaming baby or stay home, get tons of work done in the peace and quiet and explain to my 8-year-old why I missed her event.

You already know I didn’t stay home. How could I? The school is a 30 second walk out my front door. No excuses here, I had to go.

And I’m so glad I did.

“Mom! You made it!” my 8-year-old screeched when she saw me. “I didn’t think you were coming!”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” I told her, thankful I got there on time.

That’s why we do this, of course. We sign the school papers and attend each activity and hang each super glue art project, because we love our kids. We love them enough to do this all over again next year.

Because someday soon, they’ll be out of our homes and we’ll miss it. Yes, even the crazy.

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Leslie Means

Leslie is the founder and owner of Her View From Home.com. She is also a former news anchor, published children’s book author, weekly columnist, and has several published short stories as well. She is married to a very patient man. Together they have three fantastic kids.  When she’s not sharing too much personal information online and in the newspaper – you’ll find Leslie somewhere in Nebraska hanging out with family and friends. There’s also a 75% chance at any given time, you’ll spot her in the aisles at Target.

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