Since we are in that weird limbo between Thanksgiving and Christmas where no one’s really working anymore and everyone’s got way too many things going on….why not throw in a school field trip?

I chaperoned my first field trip. It was the first for my second grader too, thanks to this pandemic. So I took the day off work (I’ve postponed all meetings to next year – mentally anyway) and checked in as a parent chaperone by 8am.

I. Was. Not. Prepared.

I forgot that the maximum number of kids I can handle at any given time is two. That’s why I’m not a teacher. That’s why I’m not a PTA mom. That’s why I have two kids.

I love kids. They are adorable and inquisitive and charming little cuddle puffs. But the max is two…thank you. When they start to outnumber the hands I have to grab them out of harms way, I panic.

Thankfully, the group of kids that were assigned to me were the quietest, sweetest little second graders I have ever had the pleasure of shepherding. It was the location of the shepherding that I was not prepared for. Our destination was Kidzania – a very appropriate name for a very big place that is built to resemble a little city. Here, kids can learn to be firefighters, and dentists and earn fake city cash while doing so. They can then spend their hard earned fake city cash on other fun activities.

As a child I was thrilled by the ball pit at IKEA so little kid me would have absolutely loved this place. Under normal non-pandy circumstances, grown up me would have loved this place too. However, there were NINE OTHER SCHOOLS there. I was not prepared for high schoolers taller than me, trampling over my cutie pie troop of second graders and in turn, the high schoolers were not prepared for my mom death glares.

It was like taking a group of seven year olds to a night club. I’m also pretty sure I’m partially deaf in both ears because it was loud all the time and everywhere – not a medical diagnosis but yea, pretty sure.

Obviously, I made it out alive. Exhausted and dehydrated but alive. As did my little ducklings who had the ‘best day ever!” So I’m considering this a raging success and one I never need to repeat.

I’m done.

Listen up Mama’s. This is a crazy year and we can’t tell if things are getting better or worse. There’s one thing I CAN tell you … you’re on your own for Mother’s Day.

Your kids aren’t bringing home a cute little heart shaped fridge magnet or a card with their hand prints on it. That’s right, in the chaos of homeschooling you forgot about that Mother’s Day craft and you ain’t getting shit this year. Hubby doesn’t know what day or month it is, you really think he’s getting you a gift? You better bring those pre-pandemic expectations down.

This year Mother’s Day also happens to fall on my birthday. Do you think I’m going to receive two gifts from each resident in this house? No Ma’am. I’m a realist. I’d be lucky if I get a hug and a kiss.

So this is what I propose – we celebrate Mother’s Day 2020 by buying our own damn gifts. I’m talking about loungewear, fuzzy slippers and fancy skin care. We’re staying in and not allowing these forever hungry gremlins to age us. Mother’s Day is going to feel like Groundhog Day, but at least you’ll know that the gift you chose is on its way.

I put together a wish list for myself. If you click through and make a purchase this blog will earn a commission at no additional cost to you.

I hope you can find yourself something nice too because You. Are. Doing. Great.