I am still getting adjusted to my new role as Mrs. Bramer.
That might sound like I just became Mrs. Bramer, like I recently got married and
changed my name or something, which is most definitely not the case
sinceI have officially been Mrs. Bramer for ten years now.
I am talking about the role of Mrs. Bramer, the mother to a school-age child.
A kindergartener.
I knew that Wyatt starting school would be a big change for him and for little sister
and I at home but I didn't quite realize the new role I would be taking on.
Oh, the responsibility.
The remembering.
The getting up on time.
The important dates, the field trips, the wear red to school day,
the day snacks need to be turned in.
Milk money, lunches packed, water bottles, gym shoes, clean clothes.
The forms, the physicals, the paperwork.
The volunteering in the classroom.
The papers signed and sent back.
Coordinating Birthday treats for his class.
Wow.
Some days I think I am doing really good to be responsible for myself.
This is all kinda new to me.
Preschool didn't quite prepare me for this, for which I am now glad.
Driving to school, picking up. I already did that three days a week for one year.
At preschool we were very spoiled though
and the kids were picked up and delivered right to our cars.
I loved it.
This was done due to lack of parking and we could go in to pick up if we
wanted to but we did not have to.
I liked this because I did not have to chit-chat with all of the other parents.
And that is exactly one of the reasons I don't like pick-up at school now.
Ugh...the chit-chat, the small talk.
Wait... did I just say that out loud?
I know.
That sounds really wrong of me.
I'm just not good at that, not a fan of the small talk.
And it's not that I don't want to know the parents of the kids in my child's class
because I do...not just that well, and not every day.
I don't like having to be presentable for pick-up and
Some days I just don't feel like having to make Charlotte look presentable either.
Now that's just pure laziness, I know.
Put a bra on, wash the calamine lotion off of my face, take off my raggedy yoga pants.
Really I just want to get my boy and get back home.
And this just prolongs things a bit more.
And really?
If one more mom asks me, or Charlotte, why she isn't in school
I am going to be seriously annoyed.
But that's a post for another day.
Every time Wyatt's teacher calls me Mrs. Bramer I want to look over my shoulder,
wondering what in the hell my mother-in-law is doing at school.
Oh, she's talking to me.
That's right.
I've tried to tell her just to call me Amy....
And how did I get here so fast, anyway?
Mrs. Bramer; the mother of a kindergartener.
Wasn't he just born like a couple of years ago?
It all just takes a bit of getting used to...and I'm getting there.
Slowly.
With my clipboard, my dry erase board, my list of sight words to practice at home,
the lining up babysitters so I can go on the field trip next week, the alarm clock.
The yellow shirt already washed and ready for Yellow Day tomorrow.
******
I did say slowly so I must confess that Loser Mom showed her face last week when
I went to pack Wyatt's lunch and realized we were out of bread.
Oooops.
So the pb & j was made on a hamburger bun and he didn't seem to care.
I guess Mrs. Bramer needs to make sure there is always a loaf of
bread frozen for back-up.
Oh and as far as the little man goes?
He has adjusted to his role as The Kindergartener quite well.
We are very proud of him.