Sap Fest 2010

. . . .otherwise known as Back to School Night.

Those that know me know I am not a sentimental person. I don't hold onto things for reasons other than function and it takes a lot to move me into a place of nostalgic reflection. I find poems that are crafted to elicit a specific tearful, wistful response to be manipulative, cloying, and irksome.

Or at least I did. Until I had these monkeys. And sent them to school.

See, upon school entry I realized in a way that I never did before that time is flying by and my days with these cheeky little critters is fleeting. For the love of Pete, the Little has now officially been out longer than he'd been in. How did that happen?

But I digress.

Every stinking time I set foot at the boys' school I well up. Or outright cry. Because I am so grateful that they are in a place where they are taught so well and loved so well. Ergo, I am no longer impervious to the sappy poems that get trotted out on Back to School Night (or, as it should be called, Sap Fest fill in the current year).

Here is one such sample.

If I had my child to raise over again,
I'd build self-esteem first, and the house later.
I'd finger paint more, and point the finger less.
I would do less correcting and more connecting.
I'd take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.
I would care to know less and know to care more.
I'd take more hikes and fly more kites.
I'd stop playing serious and seriously play.
I would run through more fields and gaze at more stars.
I'd do more hugging and less tugging.
I'd see the oak tree in the acorn more often.
I would be firm less often and affirm much more.
I'd model less about the love of power,
And more about the power of love.
---Diane Loomis

No disrespect to Ms. Loomis, but this is as manipulative, sappy, cloying, and irksome as they come.

And it made me cry anyway.

Thanks to Mrs. B and Mrs. R for spending this year with Big and Middle. I am so grateful for your presence in their lives.