Today is Greenleigh’s birthday. Six years old. SIX. I’d love to sit here and ponder how this could possibly be happening, but, no doubt, you’re bored of that yearly routine, so I’ll move on… But. SIX?! Okay, I promise, I’m done now.
Lucky for me, my 6 year old is of very simple taste. All she wanted for her birthday was “Elsa stuff”, a dinner at her favorite restaurant, and for me to be there to hand out donuts to her class. Easy enough. So last week, I emailed her teacher about coming to snack time handing out the sugar filled treats; only to be told that I needed to come to lunch. Snack and lunch may not seem like that much a difference, but I can assure you they are light years apart. On occurs at 9 am and is easily maneuvered into my normal workday routine, and the other is…um…well…not.
You see, our county gives parents the option to eat lunch with their kids up to two times per month (technically, they allow you to come more than that, but 2 is the “recommended” number of times…I suppose this is aimed at the parent who just can’t cut the cord?), but, in all honesty, I haven’t been itching to do it. Something about stepping back into a school cafeteria just wasn’t appealing, but given that it was her birthday, I agreed.
So in honor of her sixth birthday, here are 6 things I learned this morning eating lunch in my daughter’s school cafeteria (get it, six…seriously, how did that happen…?):
Eleven o’clock – or earlier – is a perfectly acceptable time to lunch when you’re in elementary school. I thought it was a bit funny when I showed up at 11:05 am for Greenleigh’s lunchtime, but was startled to find that the cafeteria was already full and some kids were finishing and leaving. Seriously, how early are these kids eating?
There’s pretty much zero supervision. When I was in school, our lunch was very closely supervised. Like, prison inmate-style supervised. In elementary school I had a teacher call my mother because she found a piece of fruit in my lunch bag, in the trash. Yep, she went into the trash and then into my thrown out lunch bag to get me in trouble at home. So when Greenleigh’s teacher walked up and said “hi” to us, only to turn and wish us luck, I was a bit puzzled. Now, don’t get me wrong, there are some adults in there, but the ratio is downright frightening and if one kid decides to scream “Attica” the whole place is going down. Besides, the only adults that are in the vicinity are really only there to open things that the kids can’t…which leads me to my next realization –
Kindergartners can’t open about 90% of what parents put in their lunch. Those twist off caps for applesauce and yogurt pouches are tough…at least the kindergartners at our table thought so. Tupperware wasn’t much easier. And those Lunchables moms find not-so-healthy but oh-so-convenient? Impossible. The one time my husband went to eat lunch with Greenleigh in February, he came home with a cramp from opening more than his fair share of lunch items. Now that it’s April, they seem to have a system. Apparently, my daughter pays the little girl who sits at her table in the form of cheese, crackers, and other goodies for opening her items. Capitalism, I tell you.
School lunch hasn’t changed much. From time to time I’ll see an article online saying how they’re trying to make school lunches more nutritious and like something you’d see in a restaurant. They go on to herald how school lunches have changed – for the better – but, here’s the thing: they haven’t. I promise they haven’t, unless you’re at one of those cool schools that bucks authority and nutritionists’ recommendations and has numerous fast food options, which my daughter’s school is not. I think the lunch today was a turkey burger? Or a chicken sandwich? Or a regular burger? I honestly don’t know what was on those trays…but at least they didn’t have to open them?
No eating actually occurs. Or, perhaps more accurately, very, very little. Sure, my husband and I were a distraction, but I witnessed the same thing at other tables on the other side of the cafeteria. Instead, lunchtime is a time for squirming, questions (lots of them!), and trying to flag down someone who can can open those pesky lunch items. After today, I have no idea where all the food that I send in her lunchbox each day actually goes.
Adults have no names. Little did I know, I left my name at the front door of the school. For the entire lunch Greenleigh’s classmates referred to my husband and I as Greenleigh’s mom and Greenleigh’s dad respectively. For forty minutes, Greenleigh completely defined my identity. It was a surreal moment when I went from living in real life to feeling like one of the adults in Peanuts’ cartoon. I’m pretty sure when I asked the kids to take one more bite of food (before giving her a birthday donut) all she heard was, “Wonk Wonk Wa Wonk Wa.”
So, all in all, it was a pretty eye opening experience. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to pack my child an easy to open lunch, full of items in folded wax paper, while I ponder how my baby transformed into a 6 year old overnight.
