Today my little Alli’s preschool class had their Thanksgiving Feast. A-DOR-A-BLE.
Weeks ago a sign-up sheet was posted on the bulletin board outside the class for all the trimmings … pretzels, marshmallows, cheese cubes, sweets, fruit, etc. I looked at the list (ten items in all, one for each child to bring), and I began to think of all the cute cheese shapes I could bring or turkey shaped marshmallows perhaps. I usually sign up for the fruit or the cheese. I almost did this time, too.
Then I began to think of everything on my own plate, not the food one but the one that’s filled with meetings, conferences, swim practices, homework checks (and re-checks and re-re-checks), assemblies, dozens and dozens of phone calls, texts, and emails everyday, the groups I manage on Facebook … oh! plus three kids, a husband, and a house that always need cleaning. That plate is simply overflowing right now, and in a moment of clarity, I signed up to bring plates. Just plates. Plates for ten little preschoolers. I wrote it on my calendar.
“Bring plates for the Thanksgiving Feast.”
On Monday when I checked the calendar for the week, I saw that note and instantly felt guilty. Plates? Really, Jodi? You could have made cute cheese shapes; you could have made those oreo/reese cup turkeys!!! Plates?!? Really?!?
But I signed up for plates, and so I bought plates. Cute Thanksgiving plates even! And I kicked myself the entire time.
It’s not like I’m any less busy today than I was that day two weeks ago. If possible this week has been even BUSIER than that one, and really there is no sign of it letting up. And somebody needed to bring the plates, right? Someone was going to sign up for that so why not me?
So why am I kicking myself? Why isn’t it okay to just do a simple task, exactly what I was asked to do, and let it go at that? Why do I feel like a crappy mom for not bringing the best, biggest, brightest thing at the feast?
I have no idea. Alli didn’t care. She was very excited to bring in square pumpkin plates. Her teacher was happy to see them and said they were just fine. That should have been enough, but I still walked out feeling like a crappy, slacker mom. I mean one part of me knows that it’s ok to just bring plates every now and then. That part of me knows I’m being ridiculous for trying to be that overachieving preschool mom.
The other part of me? Yeah, she’s busy pinning handmade reindeer treats for Alli’s next snack day …