We all brought home the flyer.
Hey Smarty, it’s time to party! Let’s celebrate the 100th day of school.
That was on a Friday. Two weeks ago. Suddenly it’s Tuesday night, and we’re frantically searching for those last-minute, easy-to-make crafts sporting that celebratory 100.
This week, my three-year-old son Noah — like so many other kids around the country — celebrated his first 100 Days of School dressed like a 100-year-old man. And, while the photos were off-the-charts adorable and gained many a Facebook like, the road was paved with more than a few bumps …
Here are the behind-the-scenes thoughts that went racing through my mind:
- [En route to the fridge to grab some water before bed] Oh, there’s that adorable “100 Days” flyer. I can’t wait to …
- Holy crap, it’s TOMORROW?!
- [Runs to phone] p-i-n-t-e-r-e-s-t-.-c-o-m
- Perfect, I’ll do this one. A flower pot filled with 100 Dum-Dums. Easy, peasy.
- Wait, Noah has 100 Dum-Dums. Then he eats 100 Dum-Dums. What does Noah have now? Cavities. Noah has 100 cavities. Oy, scratch that.
- OK, this one. There’s 100 goldfish glued to a paper fishbowl, that’s then glued to construction paper. I’ll take a bellyache over a toothache any day.
- Ugh, but we don’t have construction paper. And glue!! So, just the essentials are missing. Well, I’m not running out to the store at this hour. There has to be something else.
- [Scrolls through more ideas] No. Nope. Not going to happen.
- Got it! He’ll dress like he’s 100.
- [Runs to son’s closet] Come on, where are your old fogey sweaters with the elbow patches? How could this be? Our laundry piles are sky-high, and I can’t find … OH!
- [Runs to laundry room] OK, this dirty turtleneck looks promising. Nothing says I’m old, cold, weary (and, OK, maybe a little smelly) like a turtleneck.
- And those jeans with suspenders that I had bought him for school picture day will go great with this.
- But what else? [begins to feel really committed to this mission]
- [thinks hard]
- “Hey, honey. Do you remember that birthday party we went to last spring where they gave everybody those eyebrows with the glasses as party favors? Do you remember where I put them?”
- “… HONEY?”
- [Remembers that husband hates that I never throw anything out. Makes mental note to rub this in his face later.]
- [Rips through entire house] It has to be somewhere.
- [Pulls hair out]
- [Has small recollection of putting said party favor in a box labeled ‘PARTY STUFF’ and sticking it in the deep recesses of our hall closet.]
- [Runs to hall closet] Happily exclaims, “Honey, I don’t want to say ‘I told you so,’ but … “
- Oh wow, what is this coat and hat hanging in the closet? Oh, it’s size 5. Oh, it’s just what we could use!
- [Does happy dance]
- [Does another happy dance]
- Checks to see if there is flour to turn those eyebrows white. Nope, but there’s pancake mix. That will do.
- Wow, I somehow pulled this off.
You see, we all get there. One way or another. And once we’ve got 100 Days in the rearview, we realize that it’s not just a milestone for them. It’s a milestone for us, too.
I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that walking my son down the hallway to his PreK3 class those first few days of school felt a bit like we were walking the plank. Up ahead, you could only hear the shrill sounds of children wailing. Some were just outside the door, hanging onto the legs of __parents who were trying to escape. The children who were sitting at their tables already were just silently sobbing to themselves.
Every day, Noah would look up at me with his big green eyes and plead, “Don’t go.” I’ll admit, I was scared too. Scared of the room, the children’s despair, the idea of leaving him all alone to fend for himself, and the realization that this would be our first of many goodbyes together. But I would catch eyes with a fellow parent and we would go. It will get better, we told ourselves.
And it did.
Every week the children would cry less. They’d hide behind us less. They’d start to show up with brave faces and, eventually, even started to smile.
You see, acknowledging how far they’ve come — how far we’ve all come — is really what 100 Days of School is all about. So while we may freak out about putting together that perfect outfit or school project, let’s be sure to give ourselves a pat on the back (and maybe a celebratory glass of wine or three) when it’s all over.