The Dimpled Darlings
And this time I'm not talking about my dimpled darlings. I'm talking about Reflections.
Reflections is over, thank goodness. Monday almost killed me. Actually, the stress going up to Monday is probably what almost killed me. And looking back it doesn't seem that bad (and this is how I got myself in this situation in the first place!) but the actual getting stuff ready was quite painful. It wouldn't be so bad if people actually followed the rules and filled out the appropriate paperwork and turned stuff in when they were supposed to which was cleary marked EVERYWHERE thank you very much, but of course they don't, so although I did nothing about the 40 or so entries that aren't going to the distrct, the 13 that were I had to chase down and harass parents and re-mat and re-check and whateverhwatheverhwatevherwhatever I'm done with that. It all worked out, though, and after no less than three calls from the district PTA lady in charge of Reflections after I had dropped everything off, it's in. Whateverhwahteverhwathever.
The assembly went okay as well. I had exactly the right amount of trophies, even though I ordered extra and ended up only giving one to those over-achieving people who felt free to submit like three entries. Why did I not have enough? Because people turned their stuff in at random times in random places and although everything got judged, not everyone was officially signed in and therefore had not been accounted for on the trophy count or on the picture slide show. Again, whateverhwhateverhwatheverhwahtever.
The assembly was only like 20 minutes, which is all we were given since we were piggy backing onto another assembly, but the kids were happy and felt very triumphant what with the clapping and the music up on the stage holding their trophies. As far as I know, every kid who entered got one, which was my biggest worry.
There are always parents that complain, there are always parents that are mad that THEIR fabulous little kid who sketched out a stupid thing during math on a piece of notebook paper didn't make it to district, but what can you say? I'll tell you what we as a PTA say. "Well, next year you can be in charge or you can help! We're always looking for volunteers!" At which point they turn away, drive off into the sunet, never to be seen again. It's seriously annoying. I didn't actually hear much feedback, I think most people were happy. But the few things that I did hear put me on edge right after I'd dropped my life to do Reflections for THEIR kids. (And mine, who both made it to district. Yay Gabe and Eli! And no, the judges did not know me or them. It was fair and square).
This year has been particularly bad with people who are unwilling to help. And I get it. They're busy. They're important. Or they're not but they don't want to do anything. Whatever. I'm busy, too. We're all busy. I make time. And you don't have to make time, but if you don't make time and you complain and won't do anything about it, that's your problem. At least your kid got a trophy.
I think we're all glad Reflections doesn't come around for another year.
Reflections is over, thank goodness. Monday almost killed me. Actually, the stress going up to Monday is probably what almost killed me. And looking back it doesn't seem that bad (and this is how I got myself in this situation in the first place!) but the actual getting stuff ready was quite painful. It wouldn't be so bad if people actually followed the rules and filled out the appropriate paperwork and turned stuff in when they were supposed to which was cleary marked EVERYWHERE thank you very much, but of course they don't, so although I did nothing about the 40 or so entries that aren't going to the distrct, the 13 that were I had to chase down and harass parents and re-mat and re-check and whateverhwatheverhwatevherwhatever I'm done with that. It all worked out, though, and after no less than three calls from the district PTA lady in charge of Reflections after I had dropped everything off, it's in. Whateverhwahteverhwathever.
The assembly went okay as well. I had exactly the right amount of trophies, even though I ordered extra and ended up only giving one to those over-achieving people who felt free to submit like three entries. Why did I not have enough? Because people turned their stuff in at random times in random places and although everything got judged, not everyone was officially signed in and therefore had not been accounted for on the trophy count or on the picture slide show. Again, whateverhwhateverhwatheverhwahtever.
The assembly was only like 20 minutes, which is all we were given since we were piggy backing onto another assembly, but the kids were happy and felt very triumphant what with the clapping and the music up on the stage holding their trophies. As far as I know, every kid who entered got one, which was my biggest worry.
There are always parents that complain, there are always parents that are mad that THEIR fabulous little kid who sketched out a stupid thing during math on a piece of notebook paper didn't make it to district, but what can you say? I'll tell you what we as a PTA say. "Well, next year you can be in charge or you can help! We're always looking for volunteers!" At which point they turn away, drive off into the sunet, never to be seen again. It's seriously annoying. I didn't actually hear much feedback, I think most people were happy. But the few things that I did hear put me on edge right after I'd dropped my life to do Reflections for THEIR kids. (And mine, who both made it to district. Yay Gabe and Eli! And no, the judges did not know me or them. It was fair and square).
This year has been particularly bad with people who are unwilling to help. And I get it. They're busy. They're important. Or they're not but they don't want to do anything. Whatever. I'm busy, too. We're all busy. I make time. And you don't have to make time, but if you don't make time and you complain and won't do anything about it, that's your problem. At least your kid got a trophy.
I think we're all glad Reflections doesn't come around for another year.