When Open Houses Aren't That Fun

So it's been about a month since I wrote last.  I hope you are well.  We've been plenty occupied with volleyball games and school activities.

Tonight was our last Open House.  Sniff.  Nah, I'm not that sad.  These haven't always been my favorite event to go to.  I mean don't get me wrong, it is fun trying to jam our 20-something years since high school bodies into those how shall I say... desks. Obviously.  Then there's the issue of trying to find each class.  Maybe you've heard I'm a little directionally challenged.

For years back in Syracuse at Faith Heritage at least there was the camaraderie of the same (mostly) parents year after year, friends.  Not so much in the bigger public school.   It can be a stressful way to spend your evening if you're me.

Last year was the worst.  It was the day I realized I can no longer leave the house without these.

Allow me to illustrate.  First of all, I was alone.  I'm sure Scott had some important and unavoidable excuse that kept him away, but I'll be jiggered if I can remember what it was.  I tried to talk myself out of going.  I mean, really, how many of these do I have to attend?

You guessed it, all of them apparently.  My conscience kicked in because I don't want to be THAT Mom who skips Open House.  And truth be told, I did want to meet Ally's teachers.  I've got to admit though that I was nervous about trying to find my way around the still unfamiliar school.

So I pull up where all the cool parents who've known each other since their kids were little chatted excitedly.  I tried not to give off the newbie vibe as I made my way in the front door.  Just inside was a table manned by students.  I approached casually, with phony confidence.  They handed me Ally's schedule and a map of the school.  Check.

I proceeded to the auditorium to hear the plan for the night.  Follow your child's schedule, cram yourself into tiny desk, listen to teacher's hopes and dreams for your student, then go to the next class.  All between loud bells and within 2-3 minutes.  Check.  Been there, done that.  (Well, either at our old, familiar school or with Scott's company, ahem I mean, guidance.)  Come to find out -this would make a significant difference.

Next I attempted what all Type A personalities would.  I half-listened to the principal while trying to get a jumpstart on my route to the first two classes.  I reached for my Dollar Store readers.  Oh no!  Not in my purse.  That's when I realized I had a major problem. 

Look at that print.  What person over the age of 25 could read that?  The schedule was no better. 

The first and most logical solution was that I should go home.  I tried, right?  Who would expect me to navigate my way around an unfamiliar school where I didn't know anyone?  Then I heard my own voice to my kids when we moved here and I sent them off on their first day.  Stinks when you have to suck it up and do what you expected of your much younger and seemingly more insecure kids.

So I found my resolve.  If nothing else, I am a problem solver.  What I did next I knew would horrify Ally if she ever found out, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

I went back out to the table of students, pushed the papers with tiny print in front of them, and asked them to circle the classrooms I need to go to, write the numbers BIGGER on the map, and tell me which order I would need to visit them.

They looked at me for a solid minute then I could see it in their eyes.  "Ally Burtis's mom doesn't know how to read."

Believe it or not, it went uphill from there.  The kids helped me out and I survived.  The next day I bought an extra pair of readers to be kept in my purse.  For the rest of my life I presume.

Tonight, however, was way better.  In fact, it was the best Open House ever.  No small desks, no bells, no schedules.  Just go visit the teachers you want to.  Scott was with me.  Ally came too.  The teachers love her.  They seem very young too incidentally. Thirty minutes in and out.  Yes!  And I didn't embarass my daughter.  Come to think of it, I didn't need glasses either. Win win!

Still, I guess I'm a little sad.  Because in case I didn't mention, it was our last one.