Worstest End-Of-Year Mum Ever

About five of my friends have send me Jen Hatmaker's funny account of being the worst ever end-of-year mother, which has gone viral with more than 4,000 comments. Not being competitive but I'll take her "limping" across the finish line and raise that to a: "Where are you Mum?" In my race, the finish line ribbon has been wrapped up and put away for next year, the orange bollards have been removed and the white-jacketed stewards have gone down to the pub for a pint. I'm still somewhere round the corner.

Mt Vesuvius of further effluvia: Filling the mudroom with a year of crapola projects.

*With Harley, 15, I hadn't actually realised he had finished school a week ago. Yes, I thought it was funny he was sitting around watching TV all morning as well as all afternoon...but who knows? He's at private High School and let's face it, the more you pay the less they go. A neighbour strung out balloons and "End of Year!" signs and I sort of got the picture. Harley has always maintained a consistent "insouciance" when it comes to school work. Why do a whole bunch of work when B's are so round? His report card came through and I was delighted that he got two A's....in Religions of the World and PE. I guess if all the Gods are on your side and you run really fast you've got the bases covered.

"What about some improving academic courses over the summer?" I suggested optimistically to Harley.
Better not, he said explaining further: "Someone's got to go to community college."

*I turned up to Tallulah's (12) end of year party last night totally fried. "I'll look at your things and then we're going home" I said very grumpily, asking the teacher "This is just a ten minute thing right?" No it's an hour thing she said. It turned out to be an hour of the most heart-wrenching, tear-plopping poems and speeches and slide show. Of course I felt a complete asshole for being such a grump at the beginning and kept trying to catch the teacher's eye, mouthing "Thank You!" waving and smiling and laughing crazily.

*Cy, nine, ended the year with their traditional 'How-To"project. He told me last night his was "How To Make Rice Krispie Treats." My heart sank at the thought of all the cleaning up. But he knows me so well.  We're buying them ready-made, he said.

How to Make Rice Krispie Treats

*Jackson, 13, is graduating today after being at his school for nine years. His older brother's jacket looks huge on him but I couldn't face taking him to buy another. "In the Eighties everyone wore their jackets like that" I said showing him pictures of A Flock of Seagulls "Start a cool trend!" Mum, he pleaded, I look like a clown.

There's a chance I could raise my "F" to a F+ though. On Saturday night we had our final school fundraiser of the year (for parents) at our house. Sunday morning I made the kids help me clean up.
"Cy!!!" I heard Tallulah scold her younger brother: "Carry that vodka bottle with two hands." Making end of year memories?

Solid F.

End-Of-School-Year Mum: C-

Last year I wrote about being the Worstest End Of Year Mum ever. This year I've gone Off The Grid.  I actually didn't know it was the end of the school year.

I did make it to the Open House though. Cy, 10, and his adorable rock-climbing teacher.

A the Open House: Cy's idea for a restaurant, The Drunk'in Elephant 

Menu.

This morning I asked Jackson, 14, when school was ending.
"Today" he said. 

"Oh gosh" I said airily "I guess I better plan something for the 10 weeks you little rug rats are off"
Gagaga-Arrrghag! Shiiiiiii...

The reason I don't know anything is because many months ago, in order to relieve the stress, I started deleting all the emails that came from the kids' three schools. (Don't try this at home.) One school has a system that allows parents to "Reply To All." Some emails will garnish 20 very impassioned replies. I have never once in three years joined in, though I've been tempted to do a cat-amongst-the-pigeons Bridget Jones and suggest I'll bring the vodka to any given school event and ask "who's going to bring the orange juice?" (For parents of course, whatdidyouthink?)

Cy has given up on me. 

"Mom what am I going to bring to Heritage Day lunch today?" The good Kiwi mother would have made a pavlova with kiwi fruit, a lamb dish, date scones. 

We popped into the store at the end of our road. It has British candy which is similar to Kiwi candy.

"Mom" Cy pleaded "it's supposed to be proper food!!!" 

This week I understand Harley,16, has had exams.  He's been disguising his tension really well - most afternoons he's out playing basketball with friends, of an evenings you can find him out to dinner with friends. Watching TV in between all that. The other morning before an exam I wished him well.

"Can't talk Mama, I'm off to the Egg Shoppe with (list of girls from his Psychology class)." Brave kid. Sniff.

You'd think I'd know everything because my workstation is right there in the kitchen, but instead all I've learned is to block stuff out. 

"Harley" I warned him this afternoon "when you go off to College, I'm going to convert your bedroom into an office."

"Don't blame you Mama" said Harley "I'd do the same." No wonder he's progressing so nicely in his Psych class.

You're probably wondering why I've given myself a C- instead of an F.  Did you miss the bit about taking Cy for Kiwi candy at 7.30am this morning?