For millions of Americans across the country, the great end-of-the-school-year wind down has commenced. That time when two great tides of emotion crest simultaneously: the joy, elation and relief of school almost being out and the absolute freakout that comes when you realize how much there is to do BEFORE it lets out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\u2019s in full-effect in my house. We are a family ruled by education. My daughter is a sophomore in high school, my wife is a pre-school teacher and I work at a college. If the dog were capable of learning even the most mundane new tricks, it would be the great quadruple. But for the rest of us, we\u2019re navigating choppy and churning waters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My school year is already over, so I\u2019m pretty chill in comparison. More of an observer to this fascinating world of epic highs and looming lows as the others try to get free of their educational entanglements. The elaborate calendars listing test dates, pickup times, pre-school graduations and dozens of other school commitments. The motivational messages: \u201cDon\u2019t fail. Dad won\u2019t support you your whole life.\u201d The countdown clocks. The books, binders, worksheets and handouts strewn like a tornado has torn through.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then there are more unusual things. Like odd crafts and cutout paintings covering every flat surface we have. I don\u2019t know if these are a pre-school project my wife is doing, or a sure sign that someone has gone over the edge and is creating over-sized butterflies and construction paper bumble bees for stress relief.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just about anything is possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Or how our house looks like a cross between a candy store and a bakery. One of the great rewards of being a pre-school teacher is that parents appreciate you. And they show this appreciation by showering you with end-of-the-year goodies. These come in all shapes and sizes. Chocolates. Baked treats. Sometimes a 10-pound bag of sugar. Lots of caffeine. Someone sent home a plant once. Guess they felt like we needed the roughage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\u2019s very thoughtful of parents, and caring. BUT, it also shows absolutely no regard for the gluttonous husbands at home who have absolutely no self-control and will spend the entire month eating their way through this mountain of appreciation. Unfortunately, my waist line has been appreciating horizontally.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If May has been a chocolate waist-land for me, my daughter has been enduring a tsunami of tests. High schools love exams, and they are coming fast and furious these days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Only, it becomes something of an exam for parents, too. We\u2019re tested in our own ways. Like trying to remember ever-shifting schedules that sometimes mean dramatic changes to when a teen must get to school. And after being on the same routine for an entire year, even a change of 5 minutes can wreak havoc on a household.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This means we have to get creative, and sometimes crazy, to adapt and get her to school on time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of my favorite movies as a kid was \u201cCannonball Run.\u201d It starred Burt Reynolds in this 1980s slapstick action flick about an illegal cross-country road race where goofball did anything \u2013 and I mean ANYTHING \u2013 to win. Speeding. Driving ambulances. Flipping vehicles. Driving on two wheels. Running from the law. The other day I thought for sure I was competing in \u201cCannonball Run\u201d while trying to get my daughter to school for an exam.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We\u2019re always late, and we left the house screaming and cursing at each other. We dove through windows of the car and tore down the road with papers flying out and long streaks of rubber burned into the driveway. We cut corners, jumped curbs, made wild, screeching turns and came up with on-the-fly shortcuts: \u201cDad! Quick! Cut through that old lady\u2019s backyard and under the clothesline.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Obstacles emerged out of nowhere. Like a semi-truck blocking traffic as it tried to back into a parking lot. Or a water main break causing a detour and sending us onto backroads. And then there\u2019s the Holy Grail of all school obstacles. The great drop-off demon himself: the train crossing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCannonball Run\u201d taught me that if you ever get caught by a train when you\u2019re running late (or from the law), the only viable option is obvious: Jump it!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked for a vehicle with a strategically-placed ramp, but found nothing and had to wait.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No wonder we\u2019re all stressed out. No wonder we\u2019re all counting down the days and feeling exhausted while dreaming of vacations. There\u2019s light on the horizon \u2013 a glimmer of hope in the future \u2013 but for now, we\u2019re just trying to keep our heads above water and the windows down for quick getaways. We\u2019re can\u2019t wind down yet because we\u2019re still too wound up. And God forbid, we hear the sound of a train whistle in the distance. Then it\u2019s \u201cCannonball Run\u201d time again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
For millions of Americans across the country, the great end-of-the-school-year wind down has commenced. That time when two great tides of emotion crest simultaneously: the joy, elation and relief of school almost being out and the absolute freakout that comes when you realize how much there is to do BEFORE it lets out. <\/p>\n
It\u2019s in full-effect in my house. We are a family ruled by education. My daughter is a sophomore in high school, my wife is a pre-school teacher and I work at a college. If the dog were capable of learning even the most mundane new tricks, it would be the great quadruple. But for the rest of us, we\u2019re navigating choppy and churning waters. <\/p>\n
My school year is already over, so I\u2019m pretty chill in comparison. More of an observer to this fascinating world of epic highs and looming lows as the others try to get free of their educational entanglements. The elaborate calendars listing test dates, pickup times, pre-school graduations and dozens of other school commitments. The motivational messages: \u201cDon\u2019t fail. Dad won\u2019t support you your whole life.\u201d The countdown clocks. The books, binders, worksheets and handouts strewn like a tornado has torn through. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[579,561,8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2395","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-2022-nutshells","category-family","category-parenthoodandchildren"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2395","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2395"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2395\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2396,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2395\/revisions\/2396"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2395"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2395"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2395"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}