it's almost June or as we moms like to call it....whatever

We have 3 weeks left of school.
The children's school uniforms look like hand-me-downs from Miss Hannigan in Annie.
By looking at my boys you would think that they have been left to fend for themselves.....
this would be true.
The command of "Go put some clean clothes on and tuck in your shirt" has been replaced by
"Can I see your underwear through that hole in your pants?"
"Nope...just some upper thigh. You are good to go."
We have reached the "whatever" stage of the school year.
This is the stage where the hard grind of early mornings, homework,
science fair and bag lunches, oral reports and school fundraisers
have ground mothers everywhere down to a fine dust.
The will to educate, support and uphold our children in their school efforts has
slowly and steadily been replaced by the thought that
Abraham Lincoln survived with less than one formal school year under his belt...
in honor of him we are going to let these next few weeks slide.
It's not that I don't care anymore.
Okay, I am lying.
I don't care.
A leftover chocolate Easter bunny and a rice cake for breakfast?
Whatever.
Same pair of underwear for an entire week?
More power to you. (Just keep down wind of me.)
Homework completed on a dinner napkin?
Good luck with that.
The bright eyed wonder of "I believe in you"
that accompanies my children into the new school year has been replaced
 by the glazed over look of  "There's always next year, buddy."
I am pretty sure I see the same look in the eyes of my kids' teachers.
They're just hiding it behind their end of the school year parties and extra field trips.
I don't hold this against them. I stand with them in solidarity.
We are a sister/brotherhood that has excelled and pushed and encouraged all year long.
And now we need an afternoon by the pool and a fruity drink.
If you are one of those mothers who has been worn thin over this past school year,
and has worn your hair in a  ponytail for the last 7 consecutive weeks....
If you are one of those moms who gets strange looks at drop off because you now drive
your children to school in your pajamas...
If you have felt a pang of guilt sending your child to school
with an apple and small container of nacho cheese for lunch....
Take a deep breath. Smile. And say....
Whatever.
It will set you free.