Just when we thought maybe hostilities were winding down in the Mommy Wars, comes this dispatch from the front lines, via today's Washington Post: as schools become more aware of the problem of childhood obesity, they are beginning to institute policies against banning sweets from school--and parents (i.e. moms) are fighting back. It seems nothing is more sacred than the right to take cupcakes to your kid's class on his/her birthday. The Post article, written by Brigid Schulte, notes that "when Texas tried to ban cupcakes in schools last year, the furor was so deafening that legislators passed the 'Safe Cupcake Amendment' to protect the right of parents to tote cupcakes to school. After the vote, one lawmaker remarked, 'We didn't realize how important cupcakes were.'"
Honey, you have no idea. I didn't either, but I'm educated now.
I confess to having taken cupcakes to school for my kids' birthdays, but it was under duress. My oldest daughter has a sweet tooth the size of lower Nevada, and last month as she left for school on her 10th birthday, she said, "You ARE bringing cupcakes today, aren't you, Mom?" This happens every year. Every year, I am shocked into realizing that this is expected of me, and that planning for this event was a thought which has not crossed my desolate brain pan. "Oh, yeah," I said convincingly, thinking, Oh shit. I dutifully went down to the Giant, surveyed the paltry cupcake offerings that day, and opted for orange pumpkin cookies instead. For my stupidity I was punished by the gods of commerce: cupcakes were about $2.50 per half-dozen, but the orange pumpkin cookies were 99 cents each. For the amount I spent on those goddamned cookies I could have baked a cake for every class in the school. What made the whole thing truly farcical is that it's not as if my daughter--or anybody else in her class--is suffering from a sugar deficit in her diet.
But I am, as we say in the South, just eat up with the dumbass when it comes to stuff like cupcakes and Being a Good Mom. Because this is what it's all about--as Schulte noted in her article, kids don't seem to care about cupcakes (my daughter excepted) one-tenth as much as mothers do. For parents (and, again, I sense we are talking here mostly about moms), bringing cupcakes to school is proof that you are a Good Mother. So is volunteering at the school, which I am also eat up with the dumbass about. This isn't about casually mentioning to your child's teacher that you'd be glad to pitch in from time to time; this is competition, baby. I volunteered this year to be Grade Mother for my daughter's kindergarten class. "Sure," the teacher said. I let a day or so go by and by the time we talked again, there were three other Grade Mothers and nothing left for me to do. Ditto with my older daughter, who was in the school play this year. She brought home a form asking us parents what kind of help we could volunteer. I checked off two or three items, sent it back to school, and waited to hear the when's, the where's and the what's. Nada. At the last performance, the director asked the parents who "so selflessly volunteered their time and effort" to stand for applause, and a whole cadre of moms stood up. It was clear from the smiles on their faces that they were in full bore Good Mom mode--and that, once again, I had been consigned to that category known as Slackers.
Which, really, is okay with me. I know that I don't rate with these women, but engaging in this kind of meaningless one-upsmanship is such a waste of time that I can't bring myself to care. What boggles my mind is the fact that women--these mothers--are so imprisoned by cultural expectations that they DO care. What is UP with that? Do they not have any books to read? Any gardens to till? Any immigrant families to help? Anything else to do that does not involve their children? Beats me.
So: the next time the classroom needs cupcakes, or a field trip chaperone, or somebody to man the bake sale table, give me a call. I'm here; I'm usually available, if you give me some notice. But I'm not gonna fight anybody for the privilege; I don't have to prove that I love my children, and if other moms are there plugging in the gaps, that's great. That leaves me time for all the other things on my to-do list. And, as my friend Devra notes, "Parenting is not a competitive sport." So go ahead and run up the score, ladies--I'm sitting this one out.
