The day after Halloween is never an easy day for anyone associated with children. I have never understood why schools don’t just give up the (Halloween) ghost and make the day after Halloween a teacher work day. Should we really subject teachers to classrooms full of exhausted children with sugar coursing through their veins, makeup smudges and colored hairspray still faintly marking their faces and hair? It’s kind of cruel and unusual. On the other hand… well, I am always excited to drop them off at school that morning.
In a wise move, my first grader’s hero of a teacher, the wonderful Mrs. Hoot (not her real name — I’m protecting the innocent, and she loves owls), decided to make the day after Halloween a Fall Fun Day. So at 8:45 AM on November 1, I stumbled into her classroom along with a few of my mom peers, feeling hung over even though I hadn’t had a drop to drink the night before and dreading the inevitable table of seasonal crafts. I am not an arts and crafts mom.
The children were seated on a rug expectantly, their eyes big and their legs in constant motion. As the moms and I negotiated which centers we would claim — I happily escaped stringing autumnal bracelets and instead took candy corn bingo — Mrs. Hoot discussed with the children how they would divide up and rotate through the centers.
As is their way, the children began eyeing the moms and watching the classroom door. “My mom said she could come,” one little boy said plaintively, watching the door. “Maybe she’ll be here soon.”
“My mommy has to work,” another little girl said, her lower lip trembling. “My mommy has to take care of my little sister,” another little girl whispered.
I froze a little. Just the day before, my friend had lamented that her little boy had been sad when she couldn’t come to his class Halloween party because she had to go to work. She’s a fantastic mom who had stayed up late the night before to make her son his Halloween costume, and yet one complaint from him, and BOOM — she felt like she had failed him. In that moment in my son’s classroom, my thoughts went to her. The truth was, I could only be there for about 30 minutes, and only because my husband stayed home with my toddler. But my husband needed to go to work, and I was going to leave as soon as other moms arrived to take my spot. Even though I am a parent at home and I write only in whatever time my toddler allows, it’s not as if I was free to be there either. I was squeezing every minute in too, and I empathized with both the kids and the other parents.
Mrs. Hoot waved her pointer over the children’s heads. “Now wait a minute,” she said softly. “Do you know my son, Hootie, in Kindergarten?” she asked. The kids nodded dutifully. They all know who Mrs. Hoot’s son is, and they report back to her whenever they see him around the school. “Well, Hootie’s Fall Fun Day was on Wednesday,” she said. “Does anyone know where I was on Wednesday?”
The kids paused, then hands started shooting up. “With us,” said one little boy. “You were with us.”
“That’s right,” said Mrs. Hoot. “You needed me to be here with you, so I was. Sometimes, mommies and daddies want to be at your parties, but they have other people who need them too. And that’s okay. Hootie still had fun at his party, and you are still going to have fun today too. And next time, your mommy or daddy might be able to come. You never know!”
That was it. The kids scrambled to their centers, tossing mini pumpkins into cornhole boards and eating banana ghosts and clementine pumpkins (someone’s mom likes Pinterest!) and playing candy corn bingo with me without another thought about the mothers and fathers who were not there. They were fine. I told you Mrs. Hoot is wise.
I slipped out after one game of bingo, kissing my son on the head and ushering the next mom into place before running home to relieve my husband. I was grateful for the chance to see the kids, even if that time was short.
Last spring, I wrote about how it is the “Halloween parade” equivalents in our kids’ lives that are important to parents, whether we work outside the home or not. It is imperative to be able to make it to some of our kids’ special moments. However, it’s not always feasible to attend every special school event, party, parade, and field trip — and I am not sure we even should. If we don’t empower our children with the independence and ability to experience some of these moments by themselves, how will they learn to value them without us, and later, without an audience? I don’t want to be there to validate every experience for my children. I don’t want them to think my presence is required for something to be worthwhile. I want them to be able to live the moment on their own and know how to appreciate it for themselves.
Everything we do these days can be validated in an instant by posting it on social media — we even post our meals and desserts for our friends to ogle and “like.” Maybe it is a valuable skill to learn to be able to say, “That was awesome” with just the people who experience it with us and not the outside world. Maybe our children could learn to love a meal without posting it on Facebook or Instagram, or enjoy a moment on a beach without posting a picture of their toes in the sand. Perhaps there is magic in getting to come home and tell us their own stories of their days and adventures, just as much as there is magic in having us share those adventures sometimes in person.
I’ll still slip into school as much as I can. Selfishly, I want to be there to see my children and their cute little friends, and now that I have one in middle school, I know the time to do that goes fast. But when I can’t get there, I refuse to feel guilty about it, and I hope other parents can too. It is absolutely important to be there for the “Halloween parade” type moments — it’s all that matters, really — but it’s also important to give my children resilience and independence so that they know that when I am not there, they will be okay, and yes, they will still have fun.
The awesome thing about this theory is that whether I can make it to the party or not, I’m still being a good parent. See how I did that there?
Great post. I recently wrote a piece about the guilt I felt about being a stay-at-home and not being able to make it to my son’s Halloween parade at school. No matter what our “working” status is, we’re all just doing the best we can.
Exactly. Every day, we just do our best!
This is so spot-on. Thank you for this, Allison.
I’ve been in a guilt spiral about not being at the kids’ school like I was last year, and one of my twins just asked me why I wasn’t there for library time. I told her I’m trying to write more, and she said, “Oh, ok,” and bounced off.
Thank you for reminding me that it really is ok. The kids don’t remember half the stuff that goes on at the class parties, anyway. They do remember what happens at home, though.
Exactly, Angie. It’s our job to teach them things aren’t good or bad, perfect or ruined, black or white. OUr job is to teach them about the greys and the compromises. And I think your kids got it!
I got the mama guilt hard-core when S Went on his first field trip in kindergarten. I still remember his exact words.. “i saw all the moms getting on the bus and I kept waiting for you to get on but you never did” It killed me!
I got hit again last week when I told him I couldn’t come to his fun run and he almost burst into tears. I dragged a cranky napless toddler with me because the guilt was too much!
Repeat to self: teaching coping skills. Very important!
Great post! LOVE Mrs. Hoot! What a wonderful example she gave the kids!
Also love your excellent point about allowing our kids to experience things without us always being there to validate it for them. Very cool thought-provoking post!
Thanks so much, Darcy!And yes, Mrs. Hoot is awesome.
I think all kids reach the age when they realize why parents aren’t able to make some or all events. Being the parent of a 7th grader and very active PTO member at my daughters middle school, I also see the parents who COULD give a little more but decide not to for some reason and as kids get older, they realize this also. I think a balance is nice. Make what you can when you can. Kind of like the advice “say yes as much as possible bc there will be plenty of times you have to say no”. My advice would be to make a couple events the year and prepare a child if you can’t be at an event so they are not looking for you. The saddest sight is a child watching the door for a parent who never comes.
Yes, I try to warn my kids if I can’t make an event. I also think an alternative is to send something in for the party with them — a little bit of you goes in with them then.
Mrs. Hoot sounds like a gold star teacher. Fantastic. I think I overcorrect because of my guilt about working, so I don’t miss a single thing, ever … and you make me think about the downsides of this (beyond the obvious downside that it contributes to my sense of being fired out of a cannon every single morning). Maybe it’s good for them now and then to understand that I can’t always be at every thing. xoxo
She is fantastic — I love her. She’s the ideal. And you — you need to cut yourself a little slack. But we knew that! 😉 xoxo
Go Mrs. Hoot!
I always say, the best thing about Catholic school is you always get the day after Halloween (All Saints’ Day) off.
Go Catholics! They are smartypants.
Mrs. Hoot rocks! I agree with all of this. I think there is something to be said for allowing kids to have some of their own experiences that they can come home and tell everyone about at the dinner table.
We really are lucky to have Mrs. Hoot in our lives.
Well done, Mrs. Hoot! And yes, thank you for this, Allison. (also, do I get a little bit of sympathy for having to deal with a birthday the day after Halloween?)
Yes, you have all my sympathies, Karen!
I took the afternoon off this Halloween to go and spend it with the kindergartener at her very first school Halloween parade. I left my students in favor of my own child – the opposite of what Mrs. Hoot did. There have been many field trips I’ve missed, I can’t ever help with centers during the day, I’m not a room mom. And at first I felt really badly about it all – a new kind of working mom guilt to combat. But, you know, I think you’re right about the value of experience for them on their own. Telling me the stories of the adventures I have to miss validates her independence. And as much guilt as I sometimes feel, I need to remember what you’ve said: either way, I’m being a good parent.
I’m glad you were there, Sarah. Like I said — sometimes it is all that matters. Not every time. Sometimes. Her first Halloween parade is a biggie. I wouldn’t have missed it either. But yes — either way, you are good. 😉
I go to school when I can – but miss a lot due to work and a child still at home. And I’m not a fan of field trips. When I do go to school for a function, I always make sure I find the child without a parent there and befriend them for the activity, and hope another parent will do the same for my child when I cannot be there.
Great post!
Oh my gosh, Allison, thanks for this. I love the story, I love what Mrs. Hoot said, and I love your perspective. I’m just figuring all this out – my oldest is in kindergarten this year and I have two smaller ones at home. While my part-time writing/editing work has flexibility, it’s harder to bring a 3yo and a baby into the classroom (and I’m zero help anyway with them in tow). So I’ve missed some things, made it to others, and am just feeling it all out now. Yesterday was “Dads and Donuts” book fair day and, lo and behold, my traveling husband was out of town. We decided to tell her up front that he couldn’t be there, rather than have her get to school and realize what day it was and then be sad. But still – never easy.
Sarah — Never easy. I have had some heartbreakers over the past year with three kids now in school — try having kindergarten graduation and fifth grade graduation at exactly the same time. Sucks. But I am resolute in my decision that this is okay and not soul crushing. Maybe more soul crushing for me than for any of my children for sure! Thanks for including me at Happiest Home. 🙂
Go Mrs. Hoot! I like how she explained that to the kids– and how you explained it to all of us. We cannot be everywhere at once. Also really like your point about enjoying the beach without the picture of the toes in the sand. I’ve written about putting the camera away . . . I got a lot of angry comments in return actually. But I get what you’re saying. It’s not–never share or take pictures or whatever. It’s about striking some balance.
Or even, take the picture to make the memory, but don’t feel like you need to get approval from the world to know it was a great time. I mean, I think that as with everything with life, it’s all about moderation — but I also think social media has given us this need to get consensus from our friends that yes, that was an awesome hot fudge sundae. I am as guilty as the next person, but I don’t want my kids to get these ideas ingrained in them if I can help it.
Love, love this advice! I missed my daughter’s first field trip even though I was originally supposed to go – because it was during the furlough and a bunch of other parents volunteered last minute and teacher and I figured they may not be able to get to the next one (happily the government is running again, so I think this will be true).
That was generous of you to give up your spot — and I know it was probably much appreciated! I love going on field trips, but I also have fond memories of being on field trips with other people’s parents. I try to give my kids that balance.
If I could hug you, I would. This is the message that the world needs. The guilt, the shame, the doubt, it does us no good. This is empowering and healing. I adore your writing and your beautiful wisdom. THANK YOU!
Love this message and it’s application for both parenting and our own events. After a very fun family day at the Apple Orchard, I asked my husband “Since we didn’t post anything to Facebook, does that mean that this didn’t happen?” We both had a good laugh and agreed that it’s nice to do things for ourselves and not share them.
Oh yes- I LOVE how you did that!! thank you thank you
Thank you for this. I had to go back to work this year after being a stay at home Mom for the last 7 years, when my husband lost his job. I was there for practically every.single. activity for my oldest (now 7). Our youngest is 5 and started kindergarden this year. The guilt is so extreme…even missing drop-off and pick-up and having my husband do this breaks me little by little. Being a school teacher is extra hard, I am there for everyone else’s kids but not my own. I love that it was the teacher that said this to the kids…she has her own guilt and understanding. My husband is trying to build his contacts and contract jobs, he got stuck on a phone call and missed the youngest’s Halloween parade…he did make it for the last 10 minutes of her party…he beat himself up pretty bad about it. I just kept saying, “well you showed up” and she is okay.
I am struggling so much. I will be returning to work after being a stay at home mom for 3 years. I am returning with a promotion to Administration, which has always been a goal of mine. However this new position comes with less flexibility and I will be missing my kindergartner’s back to school night. My husband will attend. My logical side knows that this is not the end of the world…having two older children (now in college) and they don’t remember if I attended or not. However, being in a school that is surrounded by stay at home moms makes me feel like I am less of a mother. This guilt is just horrible.
Goodness, I so needed to hear this today! Wonderful article and I sincerely thank you for taking the time to express your thoughts (thoughts that many of us mommas share)!!