The Meanest Mom Ever

That, according to my youngest son, is my newest title. This morning, to hear him tell the story, I earned it. To hear him speak of the Book Fair Incident of 2010, I am the ONLY mom ever not to buy my kid the book he wanted. I am the ONLY mom with rules about which book is appropriate. Forget what you think you know about mean moms. Apparently, I have surpassed them all. Leona Helmsley got nuthin on me baby! (Is she even a mom? I dunno...)

But now, in my defense, let me tell you...the rest of the story. I don't like Book Fairs. Back up, I don't like school fundraisers. Back up more, I don't like the PTA. There, I said it. Out loud. You can all gasp one collective loud gasp, as I have, probably, just offended half the moms in the country and certainly all the people at Scholastic. Without even getting into all the reasons why schools shouldn't have to "fundraise" to begin with, let me begin with this: I don't allow my children, never have, to participate in fundraisers for their schools. I simply will not be blackmailed into sending my children out to cajole unsuspecting neighbors, friends, co-workers or family into buying low-quality, high-priced wrapping paper so that the school can receive 1/10th of the profits. I won't let my kids collect addresses so our family can be bombarded by advertisements for magazine subscriptions. If I want chocolate, you can bet I'm gonna make it, and I take great issue with that bar that proclaims itself to be "World's Finest Chocolate." Ahem, I don't think so. I will not let you pressure my children to sell this stuff, luring them in with chincy prizes and promises of a "ice-cream party" to the class that sells the most. This, to me, has no place in our schools. Furthermore, I will not be sending my kids to school on the day of said party, and I dare you to mark their absence as "unexcused." I think these fundraisers are "unexcused."

Now, even though I do not like the PTA's tactics in ths manner, causing me to not like the organization as a whole, I do support the school, and I will go along with the PTA's use of the Book Fair, or linking my Harris-Teeter card, or Chick Fil-A night or skate-nght. These, to me, are the lesser evils. I am, though, beginning to have more and more of an issue with the Book Fair.

Here's why: Year after year, the quality of the books goes down and the prices go up. The amount of "junk" goes up. My kids come home with all sorts of items they would like for me to purchase, and I dole out "mom's rules about the book fair" speech once again. My kids can 1. Quote it almost verbatim, and 2. Never seem to remember it when we get there. Chapter books. On YOUR reading level or above. No "How to Draw Pokemon" or "Captain Underpants" or "101 Jokes about Body Parts." No erasers, pencils, posters, toys, highlighters. Nobody is the least bit interested in these school supplies at Wal-Mart, but put them at the front counter at the Book Fair and we just "have to have them!"

This morning, the drama unfolded like a nightmare that keeps repeating. Kiefer comes at me first with a blank book. You heard me, well, almost blank. "Look mom, they give you blank pages to write your own book!" $8.95...My answer: "I can give you a whole STACK of notebook paper for 39 cents and you can go at it...no."

Next up, "The Adventures of Ook and Gluook," or something to that effect, a book that's basically just a series of comic strips. My answer, "If you want to spend your OWN allowance, fine." Of course, this is SACRILEDGE! No one wants to spend THEIR money, just mine. (And ps, when my children want me to spend my money, they would like for me to hand it over with no say-so whatsoever in how it's spent. I don't think so.)

Next up, "Mom, I've been wanting this book FOREVER!" Here, I think my eyes rolled back in my head as I don't remember anything about said book except it contained very few pages, lots of pictures BUT came with this "amazing" DVD...$9.

Parker wised up, or he recognized that my head was about to explode off my body, and he grabbed the book I already had approved, got in line, and asked in the sweetest voice, "Mom, can I buy this now?" Kiefer, however, dug in.

Onlooking parents, teachers and other children all watched Kiefer's display of crocodile tears as he was made to leave the Book Fair with no book. In the hall, the pleading of his case continued and he was sent to class empty-handed. Half-way down the hall, he turned and said, "You're the meanest mom EVER!" I am left, alone, standing in the hall, students rushing by me to class, teachers down the hall whispering to each other, "She really is," or at least I feel like they are, and my youngest son, shoulders slumped in defeat, treads on, wiping his runny nose on his sleeve, making sure to sniffle louder whenever someone passes by.

In my heart, I want to rush after him and hug him and buy him a book. But in my head I know that doing so would fuel a later fire. Being a good mom is not always hearts and rainbows; sometimes it's drawing that harsh line. Playing the heavy is part and parcel of the job.

The story should end here. But you all know me, don't you? Maybe I should have left quietly, gone on to work, consoling myself with a pit-stop at Starbucks on the way. But not me. In typical Julia Sugarbaker fashion, I had to tell those teachers and those Book Fair people what I really thought. Maybe they weren't even thinking what I thought they were thinking, but just in case, I had to set the record straight. "I don't know if I speak for all parents. Heck, I don't know if I speak for any at all parents. But speaking just for me, I don't like what the Book Fair has become. I can trot down to the Barnes and Noble and buy better books, that would cost me a lot less, but I buy books at the Book Fair, at EVErY book fair, because I want, at least in some small way, to help the school. But when you load this place up with crap, overpriced highlighters and posters, and dumb books like "The History of Justin Beiber," or comics or books FAR below even a kindergartner's reading level, then don't sit back later and wonder why the kids have low test scores or you can't get little Johnny to read the classics. My son left here today because he threw a fit for this crap and I said no, and I will continue to say no. My wish is that you would not cave into Scholastic's pressure to sell this crap to our kids and demand better quality for our Book Fair. So, y'all have a nice day."

Then I left. I am sure, somewhere in the library, they are plotting my death. Or at least an injunction. Any future job at Scholastic Books is off the table, as probably even Clifford the Big Red Dog is mad at me now. And I shouldn't count on anyone nominating me to a PTA office. But that's okay. I am at work now, I have my latte, and I am going to go make some chocolate snowmen and santas. I'm sure Kiefer's friends have all heard of my mean-ness. I'm sure we'll have to talk about this over dinner. And sadly, I'm sure this won't be my last battle. But I'm also sure, that MY kids will read...good books.