The boys start back to school tomorrow. Which is weird because I’m pretty sure it should still be June. I’ve gone straight from “try to wear those hand-me-down shorts a few more days then we’ll do summer shopping” to “I’m not buying you back to school jeans yet, it’s still hot outside…let’s go get you those shorts I kept promising.” I know that’s terrible, but hey, I hate clothes shopping for boys. At best it’s boring (“Do you want the stripe on your shirt vertical or horizontal?”) and at worst it’s like a Wild West standoff between the ‘I’m-only-wearing-basketball-shorts-all-year-long posse’ and the ‘Having-one-button-up-shirt-in-your-closet-won’t-kill-you Sheriff’. Spoiler Alert: The Sheriff wins the battle, but the Posse wins the war. You can lead a horse to a polo shirt, but no one wants to wrestle it on him.
Like I was saying, summer went by fast, because it WAS fast. Having 972 snow days will do that. Regardless, I am fully motivated to make this year my YEAR OF BEING THE MOM THAT STAYS ORGANIZED AND DOES GOOD MOM-ISH STUFF TO HELP HER KIDS SUCCEED. That’s right. A new leaf. I am going to be That Mom.
Listen, friends, it’s been fun being the Fork Mom but I’ve got three boys at three different schools this year. Elementary, Middle and High School. I have entered what is also known as the First Circle of Hell in which I will be caught in the eternal limbo of three different school schedules. This is all about survival. Of course, survival doesn’t have to be ugly; I’ve been Pinterest-ing the shit out of my house with well-stocked and adorable “Homework Centers” and “Snack Stations.” Last night I made 25 individual snack packs of pretzels and carrot sticks because it’s cheaper than buying the pre-packaged snack packs and, sure, I’ve got ah hour to kill to do this. And I can buy organic yogurt. And dedicate an entire of shelf of my refrigerator for pre-made lunches in Bento boxes. If That Mom can do it, so can Fork Mom. I can DO IT, dammit…stop it with the skeptical look on your face!
Proving that I am now That Mom, I’m not even going to complain that my kids’ school supply shopping list was twitch-inducing specific and picky. If they want the 1oz jumbo glue stick and not the four pack of .26oz glue sticks (which were on sale), that’s what they’ll get! And if I can’t find plastic, yellow, two pocket, three pronged folders because some evil genius mom probably bought them all up to sell on the black market…I’m not going to get bent out of shape. Nope. I will cheerfully buy one plastic, green, two pocket, three pronged folder and one paper, yellow, two pocket, three pronged folder. The teacher can choose which she’d prefer and keep the extra folder. See…generosity! BOOM!
I’ll do it with a smile on my face because I’ve turned over a new leaf…and also because I remember that it’s happy hour at Bonefish Grill, smartly located right next door. Yes, yes…new leaf…I’m still hanging in there, but this new leaf requires sustenance and liquid fortitude right now. And that’s where I make a wonderful and startling discovery: every bar stool in the joint is filled with ‘That Mom’ mothers quietly weeping into their Pinot Grigios, shoving fist fulls of $5 bang-bang shrimp into their mouths and mumbling about Ticondaroga pencils. There they were…my people. Fork Moms and That Moms. Together. One of them scoots over to make room for me and hands me the cocktail list.
Now…to figure out which one is selling the black market folders.