We're Going to Need a Bigger Backpack

Last week, as I was walking (or rather running) Mary and Bobby into school, I was haphazardly trying to put each of their little back packs on as they scurried toward the door. About halfway there, I noticed a little boy right on my heels. I turned around and he was staring up at me.

'Hey buddy,' I said.

'Mrs. M. says Mary needs a bigger backpack.'

'I know, I know ... It's coming!' I barked at the 5-year old.

What the heck? 

Let me back up. A couple months ago, our nanny relayed to me that Mary's teacher had requested a bigger back pack for her. Her papers didn't fit, her folder was getting mauled, and the necessary winter ware - hats, gloves, and boots, alongside her Bento lunch box, were adding to the dilemma. That night, Mary reenacted her teacher words, 'You need a bigger backpack!'

Naturally, or at least according to my nature, I procrastinated and apparently made the whole classroom anxious. Mary told me her teacher kept asking, so I finally ordered one.

That Tuesday, when the little boy reproached me, Pottery Barn was exactly 2.5 days late with the shipment. And Mary was exactly 2.5 times more desperate with every passing hour. At night, she would pray and hope that the doorbell would ring with her new backpack, size large, bells, whistles and mermaids swimming all over it. It finally arrived and Mary was ecstatic. She showed me where she was going to put her snack, her lunchbox, her pencil, and her new folder, promised to her by her teacher.

I was partially enthused and partially rolling my eyes thinking how ridiculous this all was. It wasn't so much the actual backpack. I totally got it - her folder looked like our non-existent dog had taken a bite out of it after all. Instead it was the notion of a 'bigger backpack.'

What do I mean?

I was talking to a co-worker this week and he was telling me about his two boys - ages 3 and 4. They were three sport athletes. What? Seriously? Oh yeah. They also do hip hop.

I overheard a mom at dance class the other night rationalizing why so and so couldn't do ballet too. Well she's already in gymnastics, swimming, and jazz - it didn't fit into her schedule. So and so couldn't keep a beat. I sat there wondering why the investment?

There isn't just one girl scout troop you can participate in around here, there are two. And most people sign up for both. 

Just as soon as you think your son or daughter has got it down, there's a mom next to you telling you her kid did it a year earlier. Oh and you have tried this too? No, no I haven't. Ugh.

No wonder everyone needs a massive backpack - there is way too much stuff to cram into it - and at such an early age.

I am nervously trying to navigate this strange, new world where three sport athletes are groomed at the age of three. I find myself frantically surfing the park district website, worried that I haven't signed Bobby up for anything yet. (And he's going to be four tomorrow!) Along with every sport imaginable, you can also sign your kid up for culinary arts, chemistry, sewing, cartoon drawing, chess, model ship building, or even a date with a unicorn. It's honestly really awesome, but at the same time the choices and potential costs paralyze me. So Bobby remains a no sport athlete. 

As a collegiate lacrosse player, that started playing her sport in high school, this all baffles me. And to date, I've kept to my own theory - which is avoid the schlepping and teach them myself.

Culinary Arts (ages 3-6) 
Take turns standing on a stool to help Mommy cook the dinner that you won't eat.

Early Engineering (ages 1-6) 
Build LEGO creations with Daddy. Margaret monster will then ruin all your hard work, Mommy will yell at you to pick up all the little pieces, and then everyone will end up crying.

Pee Wee Soccer (ages 3-6) 
An over competitive Mommy will school you in the backyard. Bobby will get frustrated, pick up the ball and throw it over the next door neighbor's fence.

Mr. or Mrs. Fix It Junior (age 3)  
Learn the name of every screwdriver and wrench as well as what a plunger can do. Then learn how to use the aforementioned plunger as you unclog the toilet that you stuffed up with toilet paper.

Intro to Skiing (ages 3 and up) 
Bundle up! A certified Hidden Valley ski instructor circa 1998 will have you making french fries and pizzas in no time. Don't want to go up the chair lift? Mommy will make you anyway.

Chores and More (ages 1-6)
Learn how to fold clothes, do dishes, make beds and achieve streak free windows only to be re-streaked seconds later with Margaret's dirty hands. 

Family Interpretive Dance (all ages) 
Enjoy a freestyle family dance party each and every night. Mommy throwing out her back, guaranteed. 

So it's unorganized and shoddy ... it's schlep free though. But since Mary has plenty of room in her backpack now, I'm feeling the pressure to fill it up a little more. And I'm assuming Bobby will be next.

Lo.