Back-to-School, Again

NOTE: It’s the end of September and we’re a full month into the new school year, so the perfectionist in me thinks it’s too late to post this. But the recovering perfectionist that I’m trying hard to be thinks, “Fuck it! Post it anyway.” So here it goes …

Do you know what time it is? It’s back-to-school time, again. Woo, hoo!

Growing up, my grandma used to take my sister and me back-to-school shopping every August. It was as hot as hell in Brooklyn, but we were trying on wool sweaters and corduroys because it was the 1980s and Benetton was all the rage. The day always started with trips to two different banks to withdraw money (as a Depression Era kid, my grandma didn’t trust having all her savings in one place. Yes, even in the 1980s!). Then, after she divided her cash and placed it in various locations (i.e., her wallet, coat pockets, dress pockets (she only wore dresses with pocket — genius!), and even both cups of her very large bra, to the dismay of many a cashier), we spent the day shopping on 86th Street, breaking only for our traditional back-to-school lunch at Hinch’s, where we ate grilled cheese sandwiches at the counter. We did this every year until we graduated from high school. As college students, our grandma still sent us new underwear to start the year off right. Thongs, or as she called them, “the kind with the string up your arse.” Grandma never missed a back-to-school season. [SIDE NOTE: Because my dad was a teacher, she bought him new underwear every year, too, until the year she died.]

When my boys were younger, I took part in this back-to-school ritual, too, buying new clothes for the first day of school. But there was no “special outing” or set shopping day because I have boys. Boys, or at least my boys, don’t like shopping, even when a fun lunch date is included. So I shopped alone, and sometimes online.

As they got older and took ownership of what they wore, the back-to-school tradition dwindled to a fresh new pair of sneakers and, as a nod to my grandmother, new underwear. [I wrote about this back in 2015. You can read it here.] Once they hit middle school, I even stopped buying new backpacks and lunchboxes every year. Until shredded or ripped, those bags were good enough to reuse for a few years until the boys hit high school and new ones would once again be purchased. Cheap? Maybe. Practical? Yes.

Last year, my youngest started high school, so a new backpack and lunchbox (and sneakers and underwear) were in order. But — COVID. With the school year going virtual, there was no need for new stuff. After all, my kid rolled out of bed every morning to log on wearing the same t-shirt he slept in. Shoes weren’t required for virtual learning (neither were pants), and both class and lunch took place in the kitchen, so a new backpack and lunchbox weren’t exactly necessary. If I had to find a silver lining about last year’s virtual experience, it was that I saved a bunch of money.

So this year, with school being in-person again, I planned on buying him all new stuff. Freshman year was a bit of a bust, but for the start of sophomore year, I planned on doing it up big … But I didn’t. No new backpack, lunchbox, or underwear. Not even new face masks. He didn’t even get a fresh haircut until the week after school started. Guess that’s another mark against me for Mother of the Year.

In an attempt to redeem myself just a little last week (three and a half weeks into the new school year), I surprised my freshly-minted high school sophomore with these crazy expensive University of Oregon Nikes. The kid is obsessed with this school, which made this purchase a pretty big deal. He’s still using a ratty old backpack and a promotional lunchbox from one of my husband’s clients, but his kicks are fresh.

My question is, does this purchase put me back in the running for Mom of the Year? Fingers crossed (for those who don’t know me, insert sarcastic tone and eye roll here). Happy back-to-school, again, everyone. God speed.

-LJDT