At 5:30 PM last night I was storming out of work like a hurricane when it dawned on me.
Oh crap. Tomorow is teacher appreciation day.
It's the Week of the Young Child and this is something my day care takes very seriously, which is only one of the reasons why I love them. This week so far we've had Parent appreciation day- Mac and cheese for lunch so we didn't have to pack one and Pajama day where everyone got to wear Jammie's to school and they had cocoa puffs for a snack. Beach day is tomorrow where they will crank up the heat and splash around in the gym, but today is all about the teachers.
The day care is non-profit, so besides getting hit up for a check to help fund the teacher appreciation banquet being held after school tonight, (which I did, because how on earth could I look those people in the eye after they changed my son's poopy diapers and dealt with his issues while I sat at my desk reading blogs working and drinking a green tea latte) you are expected to show your appreciation to the teachers with a token of some kind.
I'm all for this. I think they work hard for the money and they don't get paid nearly enough. They have skills and talents that deserve recognition and thanks. It is a tremendous benefit to me that I can drop him off each day with absolute knowledge and the comfort that goes along with knowing he is well cared for while I am at work. I like to think of it as my own personal staff of nannies, each one offering something unique and introducing new things each day to his ever-expanding world. The only problem is, like every working mom, I have no time. Even though they have sent multiple newsletters home reminding parents what is on the agenda for this week, if it's not on fire, it doesn't get my attention until the minute it's about to happen.
I wish I could monogram them each a pillow case or make them a scrapbook of photos from the year. Maybe hand make them some soap that smells nice or make a beautifully decoupaged card. (I'm bluffing here. I'm not sure I even really know what decoupage is, but I've heard my sister use that word and she's really artsy.) I really would, but I can't. I don't have an artistic bone in my body. While I'm not too proud to pick up something from the bakery, it just seemed too impersonal, especially after one teacher took a lot of time out of her day to help me talk through some discipline problems we are having (which I will outline in phase two of the not-for-baby-book series). So what's a busy mom to do? I had not choice but start scanning the cupboards. A trip to buy candles was out of the question.
A box of choco-bake, some m&ms and a jar of nutella later; Voila!
My sister the Art Teacher-Scrapbook extraordinare-homemade paper making-faux painter-jewelry creating-decoupage superstar must be so proud.
