Just when I think I might be relinquishing my perch on the tippy-top of Control Freak Hill, I get an in my face reminder that, yep, I'm still earning my Control Freak merit badges.
My time in the trenches, aka second grade, Wednesday afternoon brought my quirks into sharp relief.
As room mom, or co-room mom or whatevs I am fairly laid back and I can certainly roll with the flow. I just want to know what the flow is and feel confident that there are plenty of snacks.
Priorities you know.
I am also a fan of posting a sign up sheet so that ALL parents have the opportunity to contribute to the party, whether they choose to or not and then fill in the missing pieces if needed by party time.
For the Thanksgiving party, which was for both classes together, things were a bit different than the plan in my head (the nerve). Instead of posting a sign up sheet or emailing or sending a note the moms in the other class decided to just divvy everything up between them. Which in theory should work, and even though I oppose it on principle I rolled with it. Between the five moms we agreed to provide snacks, a Thanksgiving book, a craft, drinks and a movie. On paper things looked good.
Here's how the snacks broke down:
(1) bag apple sticks
(1) small dish of pigs in the blanket
(2) trays of fall cookies
(1) tray of pretzels, cheese cubes and goldfish (that I kept refilling) (This is what we brought.)
(2) boxes of Capri Sun pouches (only 20, there are 23 kids)
So I basically became the snack table Nazi. Not to each child's heartwarming endearment I'm sure. First, since we didn't have serving spoons and the fact that many grabby, grubby, germy hands make me unhinged, I took it upon myself to serve them. It took a little longer, but we really had to police things or we would have totally run out of food before they got their first serving. I had to say, "Sorry only one pig in the blanket right now, and only one cookie, which one would you like leaf or pumpkin?" and we ran out of drinks (which was inevitable). I had asked Annelise to give up her drink and have water, one boy was disappointed but held it together and one girl burst into tears and another girl kindly gave up her drink pouch to her. I hated that there was drama and that three kids didn't get what the others did.
One little smarty pants was overly bothered by the fact I wasn't letting them serve themselves and kept trying to do it herself. And then, and then she said to me, "Well, can I eat it myself?" Yes, with The Tone. Oh how I hate The Tone. She's 7!! I raised myself up as tall as I could, gave her my best stink eye and said, "Yes you can." Though in my head I prefaced it with ,"Well, bless your heart," which here in the south can either mean yes, bless you, you sweet darling or kiss my foot, let me smack you, you little stinker. (Can you tell I'm still irked? What type of child smarts off to an adult that's shoveling snacks on her plate?")
Moving along to happier memories...
We also played a fun little game that I saw on Pinterest and adapted a bit called The Turkey Roll. I couldn't find a craft that seemed doable in 10-15 minutes and didn't require paint (eeek!), so I filled in with an edible game instead.
I also read a Thanksgiving book and then they watched A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving (which is always in style).
By the end of the party I was a twitchy, sweaty, retired-snack-Nazi-heap.
But I think it was a hit.
Bless my heart.
Do class parties make you twitchy too?
How do you handle The Tone in other children? Ugh!
Would you rather divvy up between a few moms or post a sign-up sheet?