It’s 3:51 p.m., and I can feel the impending chaos creeping closer. I gulp down some caffeinated tea, trying to summon whatever energy I have left.
The bus pulls up with a squeak of brakes, and my children burst out, backpacks bouncing. We have our daily routine: they unload lunch boxes and folders onto the kitchen counter, wash their hands, and grab a snack while I sift through the mountain of paperwork they bring home.
Each day brings a flood of items: field trip forms, reminders for themed dress days, project due dates, homework, graded assignments, spelling lists, and crumpled bits of paper. It’s as if New Year’s Eve exploded on my kitchen counter, leaving a colorful mess for me to deal with. Seriously, what would happen if I just recycled it all? It’s not like I’d end up in detention.
It’s that time of year again, where the idea of “half-assing” it feels like a victory. But I’m beyond that; I can’t even muster a quarter of my usual effort. Moms are utterly exhausted—no amount of coffee can touch this fatigue. I find myself dragging out of bed later each morning, racing around like the McCallisters from Home Alone, desperately trying to make it to the bus stop in wrinkled pajamas and a messy bun, while my kids don mismatched outfits.
Just the other day, I called my friend Jenna to vent about my exhaustion, and I couldn’t even remember what I had for lunch. My brain feels foggy, and I can’t keep track of the days. Last week, I took my toddler to a doctor’s appointment only to discover I was a full day late. The receptionist probably felt sorry for me and let us in anyway.
All this frantic madness makes me question why we can’t have end-of-year school celebrations like we used to. Back in the day, we watched movies for the last few days of school, chowing down on buttery popcorn without needing permission slips. The teacher had the freedom to play whatever movies she wanted.
The next day meant assisting our teacher with classroom chores—organizing supplies, cleaning blackboards, and taking down bulletin boards. After a year of managing our antics, the least we could do was tidy up. The final day was spent playing outside with sugary treats, while our parents chatted nearby, snapping the occasional picture with a bulky camcorder.
Fast forward to today, and end-of-year festivities start as early as late April and drag on until the last day of school. Each day is filled with something special, and honestly, I’m over it. With four kids—three in school and one homeschooled—I can barely keep up.
I truly admire educators who strive to create memorable experiences for our children amidst their overwhelming responsibilities. However, this time of year is particularly challenging for them, as many kids struggle with routine changes, leading to a month I call “Dysregulation Station.”
Parents are also hit hard by these events, which often require our participation. Many of us juggle work, childcare, and lack nearby family support. It’s exhausting. The “super parents” who show up with gourmet snacks and perfectly curated crafts make me wonder if they have a secret network of help.
Meanwhile, I’m just trying to survive, often questioning why I even bother showing up when my kids seem to prefer ignoring me or hanging onto my legs. I’ve resorted to letting my daughter make her own lunch, and you know what? I’m thrilled. The days of controlling everything are behind me.
As summer approaches, I feel like I’m reaching for it in slow motion, yet I can’t quite grasp it. All I can do is brew more coffee and set another alarm while preparing for the next chaotic morning.
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To summarize, the end of the school year has transformed into an exhausting marathon of events that leaves parents drained. While educators work hard to create meaningful experiences, many parents find it overwhelming to keep up. There’s a yearning for the simpler, carefree celebrations of the past, and as the chaos continues, we all just hope to make it to summer in one piece.