It's Not My Thing Anymore

I suppose I deserve children who glow at the prospect of dressing up in weird outfits for special occasion days like Spirit Week.  After all, for career day my senior year in high school, (when arguably, I should have had some clue), I came as a dancer from Cats complete with a sign that said, "I heart T.S. Elliot."  Yes, I know the man's name was Eliot...now.  But as I said, I did not have a clue or I wouldn't have donned a black leotard, fuzzy leg warmers and dramatic eyeliner in the first place.  The apples of my eyes are all near the tree.

Fast forward to motherhood and my kids in Catholic school.  It's Spirit week and my children are struggling mightily with the concept of "Wacky Wednesday."  The results are not pretty.  After exercising veto power on wearing a former ballet costume, three shirts including a dress mass shirt with an extra head, and tactfully explaining that flippers as funny as they might be, would be annoying to walk in all day, I realized I'd turned the corner as a Mom.   I mean, I was a total home team kind of gal.  I would have been out there with my toe shoes.  But perhaps it was the memory of those squished feet that made me try to steer them in other directions.  "It's Wacky Wednesday, not insane weird use every bit of clothing you own day." I explained. 

"What does it mean to be wacky?"  one of my more pensive children considered.  

"Well, it means crazy, out of character, like if we had Wacky Wednesday here and all of you came down dressed for the day with your teeth brushed, hair combed, socks and shoes on and had made your bed, I'd be pretty freaked out.  That would be wacky."  I answered. 

"MOM!" 

"No, I mean what could be wackier than you guys getting up to your alarm on time, not squabbling over the bathroom, all of you loading the car and taking out the trash without a nag?  I know!  Making the lunches and breakfasts and then when you come home from school, even more wackiness, you put your things away including the 12 shoes, six coats, eight backpacks, trumpet, clarinet, purse, music stands and four lunch bags.   Then, to keep me really off balance with your craziness, you could unload the dishwasher, vacuum the floors, clean the bathrooms and start your homework."

"That would be wacky." my daughter conceded."But you realize, Spirit week is only once a year."

"It would be more often than it happens now."  

One son came to me with a sombrero, cowboy vest and boots.  I gave a nod.  My other son came up with a dinosaur puppet on each hand, which he proposed would write his assignments and answer for him.  He treated me to an impromptu ventriloquist attempt to give me his spelling words.   I agreed, certain the dinos would be stashed in the locker before noon.   A daughter showed up in a crown and cape to get a thumbs up for her apparel.   The pensive one was getting cold feet.  

"Just remember, we can celebrate Wacky Wednesday my style here anytime, we don't have to limit it to spirit week." I coaxed.  She went downstairs to get a pirate hat and boots.  Relieved at getting through  all four, I relaxed.  Thank goodness for uniforms I was thinking.

"Hey Mom." my teenager walked in from the bus.  "Next week is spirit week and our class has a theme of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs."