"Little Pitchers"

Motherhood comes with daily revelations. The early days are filled with wonder and amazement at the fact that your own body produced such a tiny miracle. After riding the hormone highway through those first few sleep-deprived weeks, you slowly but surely begin to realize that this whole parenthood thing is a much bigger deal than you originally thought. Babies grow up to be kids, and then kids grow into (gasp) teenagers. Along the way, you begin to realize what you have given up to become a parent, and I'm not just talking about your bikini body. I'm talking about sleep, sanity, privacy in the bathroom, freedom to sleep or walk through your home in the nude, and so, so many other things no one tells you about until it's too late.
My particular realization this week came in the form of freedom of speech. As Americans, we have it. Heck, it's guaranteed by our Constitution. I'm here to let you in on a secret: when you become a parent, you lose your right to free speech! Who knew? All of a sudden I can't say anything in my own home, in my car, or anywhere else in the presence of my children that I don't want repeated at absolutely the most inopportune moment. And I certainly can't flavor my opinions and ideas with certain words that probably shouldn't be in my vocabulary but sneak their way in from time to time. I used to think that perhaps my husband had Tourette's Syndrome because every time we got in the car without the kids he let loose a fountain of swear words. Now I understand that he had been saving up, stifling the urge to say what he really wanted to say until he was out of hearing range of the "little pitchers."
This week our children are participating in their school's fund raiser by selling cookie dough. Now, I understand that these types of events have been going on forever. My family sold over a thousand dollars worth of cookies when I was in the fourth grade! But the tactics that schools are using to get kids to sell stuff that nobody really wants are getting ridiculous. Now they have stooped to tempting the kids with a "Mega Party" that they can't attend if they don't sell so many items. Yep, either get out there and push cookie dough on your friends and family or sit in the classroom and do work while all the other kids go to the party. They just got finished selling coupon books, which my daughter wanted to go door to door selling because she just HAD to win a Kindle Fire. Turns out she doesn't even know what it is.
So the other morning my husband voiced his opinion on the whole situation on the way to school. When they arrived, one of the teachers opened the door and asked my girls how they were doing. My oldest promptly responded, "Well, we just don't think it's right that the school makes kids sell all this crap to get to go to a party." Thanks, Dad! Fortunately, the teacher just giggled and said, "I completely agree." Guess we won't be in the running for student of the month. Darn.
Next time, we'll discuss giving up your right to sit down for more than five minutes at a time.