Reason #185630493 I’m failing my children: St. Patrick’s Day.
I opened up Facebook this morning because yesterday afternoon our school board chair wrote a very
heartfelt reactionary letter with all the feelz and an actual, for-real, apology–with the words “I’m sorry” in it and everything! I thought I’d be seeing parents respond to the letter, which doesn’t address why the chair was soliciting search firms BEFORE a superintendent’s resignation was ratified in public. For those keeping score at home, this action was in direct violation of Sunshine Laws and of the chair’s explicit promise to be more law-abiding transparent moving forward. (Also, it’s about four weeks too late.)
Instead, I saw everyone’s kids dressed up for St. Patrick’s Day and setting up leprechaun traps (wait what), and I inwardly groaned, because I sent my children on the bus with nary a lick
of o’ green between the two of them.
I have nothing to say in my defense. It’s not as though I didn’t know that today was a
drinking nationally recognized holiday. A significant part of my family is Irish, despite my longstanding disinclination toward any kind potato dish not slathered in oil and salt. (In college, my grandmother faithfully sent me homemade Irish potatoes–a candy–every year and I gave them away.) Instead, I had merely put a green, glittery shamrock on my door and called it a day. Quelle horreur!
Sometimes I get exhausted from all the dressing up. And besides, earlier this month, I totally HIT IT OUT OF THE PARK with Read Across America week. My kids had to do something different every single day, from wearing a crazy hat to dressing like a book character to finding another friend and coordinating matching outfits. I was on the ball and looked like I completely had everything together, which is pretty much my squad goal at this point in my life.
I think my kids are going to take this one for the team while I figure out what Pinterest idea I can mangle for Easter in two weeks.