What does “corporations are people” actually mean?

In light of the recent SCOTUS ruling on Hobby Lobby and other corporate giants being allowed to deny women birth control within their health coverage plans because it goes against their religious beliefs, I thought a primer on the laws surrounding corporations as people was in order.

Slate does a good job covering some of the bases of this particular case, but let’s sum up:

- Eric Posner, writing for Slate, reminds us that the word “people” in terms of corporations is a sort of legalese short cut–never a good idea, in my opinion, to mince inexact words when describing the law.

- This ‘artificial person’ (going back to the 1700s definition) has certain rights: property ownership and contractual rights, to be specific. As such an entity, it is responsible in the courts as itself, which protects the shareholders. In other words, the buck stops (or is supposed to stop) at the corporation because the Supreme Court went ahead and made it its own thing. This, in turn, protects the owners as well, because when Hobby Lobby (or any corporation) fails financially, the actual people behind the artificial person do not suffer the immense losses involved in billion-dollar industries.

- Until recently, according to the New York Times, the “Supreme Court, in business cases, has held that “incorporation’s basic purpose is to create a legally distinct entity, with legal rights, obligations, powers, and privileges different from those of the natural individuals who created it, who own it, or whom it employs.””

- Until, of course, the Citizen’s United case, where, as Slate says, the justices based their ruling not on corporations as individuals with rights but on the real individuals behind the corporations and their rights as a collective group.

The ruling this week was simply an extension of this incredibly garbled, incredibly unethical ruling.

What we are looking at now is Hobby Lobby owners asserting that their religious beliefs as individual people behind a corporation, should be a basis for how that corporation is ruled upon in a court of law. They are, in essence, making themselves responsible for the actions of Hobby Lobby, intertwining Hobby Lobby as an artificial person with them as real people. They are saying they want to become Hobby Lobby, so that they can use the business to push their agenda.

And, in doing this, they also want to maintain the separation of themselves from their business when it comes to protecting their own assets monetarily. And the Court said yes.

Nutshell: In ruling that Hobby Lobby can restrict women’s health care, the Court has muddled two entities–the real person owner and the fake person corporation–giving the owner/corporation mutant all the protections of both–free speech, freedom of religion, freedom to engage in contracts, freedom to sue (as either entity), freedom to own property.

In doing so, the Court has neglected to relook at those protections on a grand scale, so that the owners of Hobby Lobby could turn around in bankruptcy and say “just kidding, we aren’t Hobby Lobby, we’re the people behind it. Don’t punish us.” And the Court would be like, “yup, you’re good.”

This week, we have seen the elevation of big businesses and their owners. We have seen the crippling demise of the worker, in real time.

Keep in mind, the average Hobby Lobby employee makes less than $9 an hour.

Who really needs protecting here?

And who is the bad guy?

Honestly, in this case, I blame our Supreme Court. Someone needs to delve into this corporation person thing and straighten it the hell out.

For more on how this impacts women and society, check this post out by Life, Love, Liturgy.

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Confession by Darlena Cunha

Originally posted on :

Darlena family portraitGood afternoon, Fr. John. I’m here for confession. No, I’d like the curtain back, please. I want you to see my face. I really need to talk to you, get my bearings. But this confession will not be solely about my sins, for, unfortunately, I am not sure I will ever change my ways.

Does that exclude me? Is Catholicism a club? Should my twin daughters, five years old, be subjected to scorn and pity that their mother is a sinner? That they were born in sin? They don’t look like sin, to me. They are light, and love, and happiness. They have shaped me, taught me, brought me into the woman I was meant to be. Is it wrong of me to want to do the same for them? Is it better to turn me out and lose two potentially pure beings who will make their own choices in…

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The Internet Boobs Aren’t the Problem

Hey Lauren,

Hi, there.

I’m Darlena.

As I’m sure you’re well aware by now, your post about internet boobies ruining your marriage made quite a stir.

Don’t worry, I’m not here to judge you, and I don’t hate you, and you didn’t make me mad.

What I really want to say to you is this:

Do you know how beautiful you are?

Let me be the first (or millionth) to tell you: You are freaking gorgeous.

You’re gorgeous in your profile picture, with your hair all done and your makeup on. And you are gorgeous with flat hair and sweat dripping from your forehead. You are magnificent. There is not one internet boob that stands a chance against you. I mean that and it is important. You hold within you the power of a billion internet boobs. They are not a threat to you. You are worth so much more than a crack of cleavage. I promise you.

Are you alone? I mean…lonely? I’ve only moved to FL, a two hour plane ride from my friends and family, and I can tell you, there were days when my girls were little where I didn’t speak a word. Days and days at a time. I just ask because it sounds like you could use a hug. Or at least a cup of coffee with a friend, where you both just sit around and do nothing and laugh at the world for being the world. It sounds like maybe you’ve been too busy or too stressed or both, lately, to see your true self. The awesomeness that is you.

Whether you’re decked out in a Brazilian bikini, or chilling in a tankini with a skirt attached, I can guarantee you that you look phenomenal. And more than that, I’m sure, as a person, you are phenomenal.

Your husband thinks so. He married not a set of boobies and what I’m sure is a fantastic ass, but a person. You.

And from what little you said about him in your piece, he sounds like a really nice, stand-up guy. The kind of guy who would willing avert his eyes from Internet friends’ bikini shots because they make you uncomfortable. Someone who is willing to adhere respectfully to your boundaries is a keeper, for sure.

Another important thing to discuss before I get into the nitty-gritty is that you have a right to feel uncomfortable. You have a right to your feelings. I would mildly suggest you attempt to change your outlook, but, honestly, it’s because I’ve been there, girl. I’ve been right there, and feeling that way freaking sucks. It sucks. It’s horrible to have to feel that way. It’s life-sucking, energy-draining and futile.

This here:

“After Memorial Day, I noticed so much skin on social media that I half-yelled a warning to him as I ran out the door one morning. It’s summertime, honey! Beware the beach pics and half nude girls on Instagram! And like that, he was in solitary confinement from all virtual community for the next two days. 

Protecting his eyes, protecting his heart.”

is like the saddest thing I’ve ever read.

It’s seconded only to this:

“When your bare shoulders and stretchmark-less bellies and tanned legs pop up, I not only worry if my husband will linger over your picture. I worry how he will compare me to you. 

As I wrap myself into his arms at night, I wonder if he is seeing you there instead of my mess of a body left over from pregnancy. I wonder if he thinks I’m lazy and that I don’t take good care of myself. I wonder if he wishes I looked more like you than who I really am.”

To which I just want to say, “oh, honey” in all sincerity.

You (the general you) spend time rating your friends and enemies. How do they not have cellulite? That is a legit question! And stretch marks, God, have I cried about my stretchmarks. I’m not one of those “they are my tiger stripes” women, let me tell you. I won’t have sex without a shirt on, and I have, like, really high self-esteem. In fact, if we were facebook friends, your post would have been directed at me.

What’s up, girlfriend?

This shouldn’t make us enemies, dude. That pic up there is nothing to you. And it carries no threat. I promise.

And you were very pointed in saying you weren’t judging women who post these shots. Rather, it was more like you were asking them a personal favor. For you.  For your marriage. The thing is…well, you can’t really ask the internet for a personal favor. It doesn’t work that way. And the second you imply random internet people need to make a change (which may be unhealthy for them) for you, is the second you cast blame, however implicitly, and is the second you cross the line.

Of course people are mad. Even though you said you weren’t shaming them, you totally just shamed them.

Moving on from them, though, if your husband hasn’t given you reason not to, how about giving him a chance? He doesn’t need to protect his eyes or his heart. They belong to you. Internet boobies do not come between true love. And the visual thing? That’s silly. You know it’s silly. Don’t give men an excuse like that. They have autonomy. They have control over themselves. They are human beings just like we are. They can and do stop themselves from making those types of mistakes. And if they don’t? It is their fault.

It is their fault.

Not ours. Not yours. And if they somehow cannot help themselves, and refuse to acknowledge that they are a thinking human being? Then you don’t need to be married to them. I mean, it would be like you being, I can’t read or do maths! I’m a woman! Our sex, our biology, does not overrun our judgment.

And the internet hate you’re getting right now? I’m sorry about that, I really am… But I’m hoping you’re looking at it.

The way you are dealing with this isn’t healthy for you. It’s a game you will never win. Other women exist and they all have boobs and butts. No matter where you go, you’re going to run into them. They will never not be there. And if that eats at your insecurities, you are in for a life of pain. That’s why they’re suggesting counselling (albeit, I’m sure not kindly). Because if you don’t think you’re superior to some random internet boobies, your self image isn’t being fair to the goddess I’m sure you are.

And you know it. You already know it. You started your whole post with “I can’t believe I’m typing this” like three times.

Not only can’t you stop women from posting their fun, empowering vacation shots, you shouldn’t want to. Everyone is beautiful, and asking someone else to hide their beauty so that you can feel more secure in yours is just backwards.

And it won’t work. Not in the long run.

Love yourself, Lauren. We do.

The point is, changing the attire of every woman in the world is not only impossible, it’s also not going to help you. Your problem doesn’t lie within us.

I don’t often spam my other, outside projects here, but I think this could help you. It’s a body positivity page called “We don’t need an excuse.” Here are a few pictures on there to give you an idea of what it’s about.

 

 

 

Every woman on there feels beautiful in the skin she’s in. Join us. It’s better over here. Trust me. I’ve been on your side, too. This side is so much better.

I wish you luck.

 

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Ten Horrific Kitchen Fails

In lieu of a recipe this week, I thought I’d list out the EVER-GROWING request list for Fail Kitchen.

 

 

Here are the ones already in the pipeline:

 

 

Pinata Cookies. Original recipe here: 

 

 

Watermelon Cake. Original recipe here:

 

 

Cheesy Pull-apart Bread. Original recipe here:

 

 

Heart-shaped Hard Boiled Eggs. Original recipe here:

 

 

 

 

 

Zebra Cake. Original recipe here:

 

 

No Bake Oreo Ice Cream Cake. Original recipe here:

 

 

And there are dozens more I’ve not even touched yet. People seem to have a lot of suggestions for me.

 

Here are the next batch up to film:

 

 

Oreo Peanut Butter Brownies. Recipe Here.

 

 

Magic Custard Cake. Recipe Here.

 

 

Red, White and Blue Raspberry Bars. Recipe Here.

 

 

Roses Apple Pie. Recipe Here.

 

And the suggestions for after these are just as amazing.

 

World’s Biggest Candy Bar

Ice Cream Cupcakes

Goldfish Frosting

Apple Crescent Roses

Yummy Dog Sandwich

 

And, I’ve also got a new round of recipes I have to look up! I think I’ll do The State of Fail Kitchen every month or so, as the recipes and fails refresh, so stay tuned.

 

 

And of course, don’t forget about the awesome recipes already up on YouTube!

 

Jelly Worms:

 

Blooming Onion:

 

Chocolate Covered Strawberries:

 

 

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Ridiculous Parent-Child Dialogues

There are a lot of things that irk me about the parenting advice world, but nothing quite ticks me off like the inane, complicated, Danny-Tanner-esque conversations all these multitudes of parents are apparently having with their children.

And never in these novel-length, concerned-but-kind talks, do the authors give any indication of the complete lack of fucks given by the children being spoken at.

I mean, you read this shit in a book, or hear it on audio, and you picture an ever diligent, soft-spoken mother, leaning over her heretofore tantrumming child (who now appears to be totally calm and involved in the conversation, listening, nodding, you name name), and spouting out joyous paragraphs of wisdom and light–about decency, humanity, love, apology.

We learn that these parents aren’t perfect. They have to atone for their lapses in judgement. We learn that even when they lose it, and yell, they come back to their corner of calm, and their kid is apparently totally down for listening to every drippingly caring word that comes next out of their faceholes.

We never are told that in reality, mom is shouting these words to be heard over a child rolling her eyes, stomping her feet and humming. That the kid immediately turns around to the television (which in parenting book land is never on, but come on) and ignores these frosting-coated life lessons. We never see the kid interrupt the grand gesture to explain her side of the story yet again. We never see that the parent could possibly be saying all these things (which they’re not), but the kid isn’t hearing it.

I cannot with this. Enough. When I pick up a parenting book, I need help. I already know how to wax parenting poetical on my children about how everything would be in an ideal world, I don’t need your made-up garbage dialogue. I need to know what you REALLY do.

With that in mind, here are my favorite pseudo-conversations, word for word, from a parenting book I just read.

In a situation where a child was rude and was not allowed to go to her friends party, this book says, no, let the child go to the party because it has nothing to do with the rudeness. Conversation:

“We would talk about it, addressing your rudeness right then and there.”
“You mean like the other day when I slammed my bedroom door because I was mad at you, and we talked about it, and I wrote about it in my journal?”

Yes. I’m sure that’s what happened. That’s always how those talks go in my house.

On lasagna a child refused to eat:

“You know, make you ____, mommy did try to make you something you would like.”
“I know you did, mommy. Thank you. But next time don’t try so hard. I like all my vegetable separate, not together in a lasagna.”

Yes, my children often tell me not to try so hard to please them. This is totally realistic.

During a penmanship lesson:

“That’s so mean, mommy. I was really trying my hardest. It hurts me that you don’t like my handwriting.”
“Thank you for sharing your feelings. You don’t have to change your handwriting if yo essence u don’t want to. The more important thing for you to realize is that your handwriting is not ____. Your hair is not ____. Your clothes are not _____. Your face is not _____. Your grades are not _____. None of these are ____. You are more than any of this, beyond all beautiful, which is your essence. This essence can never be ugly, stupid, or inferior. It’s always fine just as it is. So if I, or your teacher, or another kid tells you your hair is ugly, or your handwriting is sloppy, remember that since it’s not the real you, and only a temporary way of expressing yourself, it doesn’t define you. Perhaps then it won’t be so hurtful anymore if I suggest you might want to write in your usual neat way. But I leave that up to you.”

Kid is probably like…what the hell just happened? I fell asleep two sentences into that.

When a child doesn’t do the dishes or some other thing she’s been told to do:

“Is there some reason you can’t fulfill my request? I need you to honor what I’m asking and put the dishes away.”

Oh. Okay.

What to say instead of “you can be anything you want to be”:

“If you are simply yourself, instead of copying another person or trying to be what someone else thinks you should be, you will find a way to express who you are in the world. By just being you, you will create a path for your life that’s not only realistic, but that honors who you are.”

Sigh. Okay. But that’s for books when the kids are old enough to absorb that information and actually seek it out. Right now, can we just stick with, ‘you can be anything you want to be?’

I’m just…these are only a very few of the long, convoluted conversations parents everywhere are supposedly having with their children. Just not me.

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Mom Fashion

When you see me out and about town, I probably look, to you, severely lacking in style. My fashion choices are questionable, and I seem to be blissfully unaware of trends or even hygiene. I assure you, that is not the case. Here’s a simple infographic explaining mom fashion.

 

 

 

 

So, in conclusion, it’s not ONLY that we don’t really give a damn what you think. We also don’t have time to give a damn what you think. Just roll with it, guys. We have to.

 

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Kindergarten Kids – Rules for the end-of-the-year play

Problem:

 

Your kid has spent weeks preparing for her special end-of-the-year play. She’s spent hours memorizing songs and dance moves. Singing and speaking, being quiet, and watching, readying. And it’s all been hush-hush. She wants it to be a surprise for you. Because you’ll be there.

 

We’ll all be there.

 

This isn’t the 1980s anymore, and one of the striking differences in parenting style is that these days, you never don’t show up. Gone are the days of empty soccer field stadiums that I remember, a few straggling parents there with a weak clap here and there. These days, you show up. Whether you do it because your parents did it for you or because they didn’t, you are there.

 

And so is everyone else.

 

And…it kind of sucks.

 

So, I have some rules I thought up that might help next year’s class.

 

Solution:


1) Have the room open immediately.


This play was at 8 a.m. The place had to have been ready the day before. Don’t shut the door. We all got there at 7:45 for the morning bell, and we want to go get a seat. What we don’t want to do is stand in a line that wraps around the elementary school like a snake of good parenting. Let us in. That was silly and put everyone in a defensive mood.

 

2) Let parents know where their kid will be.


I have twins. One was in the front. One was on the side of the room. We picked a seat unknowingly where we could see neither of them. A lot of parents did this. So, during the play, there was a lot of people getting up and changing seats, and repositioning, and I’m sure it’s not what the school had in mind. The kids had those spots from the beginning. Let the parents know the general area where their kid will be. That’s who they’re interested in. You don’t need seating plans or anything, but just a general idea would be helpful.

 

3) Parents: don’t save seats, for cripe’s sake.


Now, I’m not talking about one partner saving a seat for the other partner. One seat saved is fine, necessary even, but I’m saying we came into the room, thinking seats were available and they were not. So we went to the front, where there was an empty bench. Only umbrellas, bags, keys, and shoes were splayed out over the whole thing. Not cool, guys, not cool. Now the mid-seats we could have taken were already taken. And the mid-seats we thought were open? Covered with travel mugs, sandals, and freaking walking sticks.

 

Stop it. Just stop. We all know you’re about to get up and snap a photo of your kid anyway. Do you need to sit next to 80 of your closest parent friends who couldn’t get there at 8? Very frustrating.

 

4) The phones, guys. Can we not with the phones?


Again, when it’s your kid’s time to play her two-second part? By all means, bodycheck everyone else out of the way, and snap your shot. But they have a video being recorded by the school, guys. And they sent an email saying, HEY, WE’LL HAVE A DVD AVAILABLE, SO DON’T RECORD THIS ON YOUR PHONE.

 

So, why did I have to try to see my kids through a maze of upheld electronic devices? I showed up at ass in the morning to see my kid sing, not to see her through your tiny newest iPhone lens.

 

And honestly? Are you going to watch and rewatch your shaky phone video of the kids singing “Florida Alphabet”? Isn’t it better to actually enjoy it the first time? To make eye contact with the kid as she sings? I’m not even close to a phone shamer, but in this one particular case, I’m totally down with the ‘put down your phone’ thing.

 

5) Don’t be the “wooooooooo” guy.


Once you woo for your kid, we all have to woo for our kids. I didn’t go to a pep rally, dudes. I went to an itty-bitty kid concert. They don’t know how to handle five minutes of parents out-wooing each other after each song. They just want to sing again, so…can we let them? Fist pump at home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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My Five Year Old Is Not Your Strong Leader

As I walked with my children to school an hour ago, in between paying exactly equal attention and lavishing exactly equal praise to my twins so that they would remain in a human-like mood at least until we got to the big doors, I readied myself for a talk I needed to have with one of the girls’ teachers.

As anyone who knows us knows, my girls are scare-quote spirited. We’d been coming off a long stretch of normality, where the girls would play together nicely for hours, accept reality as it came their way, and just generally showed a maturity I knew was too good to last.

But this past week has been an abomination.

There are lots of reasons for this. 1) School is drawing to a close, so their schedules during the school day have been disrupted with activities they are unused to. 2) The dentist told them they needed to stop sucking their thumbs, which, until this point, had been a major source of comfort and security to them. And my kids? They’ve wills of steel. They stopped that day and have not put their thumbs in their mouths since. I, as an adult, cannot fathom this. I’ve been trying to stop biting my nails for 29 years. HOOOOOOOOW? They just did it. I don’t even know. 3) They’ve been fighting off an illness, which always makes for a rough go of things.

But there is a new culprit in the mix, and one I’m just not ready to face (although I did and I will).

The influences of other kids at school.

Yesterday, one of my daughters tantrumed for a full three hours. Ninety minutes over a lollipop that she picked out and ninety minutes out of just general malaise. It may have been my hardest day as a parent yet.

When pressed, one particular little girl, Natalina’s partner for the school play, and the girl she now sits next to (that was a change from the previous month), kept coming up. M eats blood. M doesn’t listen to anyone. M doesn’t like me. M says mean things all the time. M likes me now and invited me to the “popular girls club” (INSERT MOM RAGE). M never does what she’s told. She doesn’t have to. M squeezes her hand hard to hurt her during play practice. M thinks she’s a tattle tale. M, M, M, M.

So, I suited up.

In my I-mean-business trench coat and my paper-plate necklace, I prepared my talk in my head to the teacher.

When I got there, though, the tone of the talk surprised me.

“Hi, Mrs. G, I’d like to ask you about M.”

She nods, knowingly.

“Okay, good, so you know what I’m talking about. What’s up with that?”

She took a moment. “We have lots of trouble with M. Has she said anything ugly to your child?”

“Well, kind of,” I replied. “They’re partners in the play and I know Lilly sits next to her now. We’re having some behavior issues at home, and I know you had to send L to the office the other day for attitude. I was just wondering if you could move her back to sit next to G?”

She hesitated again. Now, this is a longterm substitute. Natalina’s teacher had a baby, and left just a few months ago, if that.

Her old teacher knew that N has trouble finishing assignments, and needs a good example to follow. N picks up on cues really easily, so when paired with G for so long, she began finishing assignments and setting a good example for others.

N picks up on cues really easily.

So, when Mrs. G told me that Natalina was a “strong leader” and she needed to “keep a good kid at each table” and mine was “one of the good kids”, while my heart filled with pride (and recognition…they used to do this to me in school, too), I knew it was all wrong.

My child is not a strong leader.

And that’s okay. She will be. I have no doubt. But she’s not there yet. The person the substitute thinks my child is, and who my child actually is are two different people.

Natalina picks up on cues really easily.

For now, because I was not expecting that response at all, I let it go. The teacher is going to monitor the situation more closely, and there are only two weeks left of school anyway.

But, in reality, this is only part one of the talk. I need to, now that I know what I’m dealing with, go back in there and get my kid what she needs.

This may well be the one time in my child’s life where being thought of as a strong leader will be detrimental to her, but so be it.

My child is not yet a strong leader, and I will defend her malleability as she grows into one. So that one day, perhaps, yes, the teachers will make her the leader of the table of kids who have some trouble.

Today is not that day.

Today she is just learning how to overcome her own trouble.

This is a crossroads. An important one. These kinds of events could determine how my daughter deals with outside influences for the rest of her life. So, for now, I’ve instructed her to be nice to everyone, including M, but to know that she needs to do the right thing, always, and not follow along if she sees M behaving inappropriately. That whether or not M likes her bears no consequence on her life.

God, I hope it sticks.

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No One Deserves To Be Abused (Or Your Online Judgment Because Of It)

Originally posted on Thought Catalog:

Recently, I’ve been seeing a meme making its rounds on Facebook that goes as follows:

If you are in a relationship that is abusive towards YOU and you leave or make them leave and then take them back, then you get what you deserve. If you are in a relationship that is abusive towards your CHILD and you leave and then take them back, you DESERVE to be beaten like a dog!!!! Allowing your child to be abused because you are afraid of being alone, makes you a piece of SHIT!!!!!

What’s even worse than this status meme is at least half the comments are of the “YEAH RAH RAH!” variety. To which I would just like to say, what the hell is wrong with you?

There’s just so much to address here. First of all, no one deserves to be beaten like a dog. Dogs don’t deserve to be…

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Dear Overzealous Room Parent

Now, before I get into the nitty gritty of this, would like to state emphatically that I mean this woman no ill-will, I don’t think she’s a horrible person, I don’t think room parents in general is a bad idea, etc. etc. I’m just annoyed. That’s all.

 

Also, keep in mind, I am like the anti-room parent, to be honest. I practice a kindergarten isolationism, not necessarily on purpose, more because I have a life, and that life has nothing to do with interacting with people who won’t like me, just because they happen to have also given birth in 2008 and live in the vicinity. We’re busy.

 

Because of this whole, ‘bring the kids to school, kiss them goodbye, go home and live my own life, pick the kids up from school, give them a kiss hello, go home and live my own life’ schedule, I don’t know any of these people. I know a few of my girls’ friends parents, because they are important to us. But I couldn’t tell you what the room parents look like, or who their kids are, or anything about anyone at all. If I did, I’m sure I would tell you that they are lovely human beings with the best intentions at heart. Actually, I can say that anyway. I’m sure they only mean the very best. Still annoyed.

 

Not knowing who they are makes it easier for me to dissect a few emails I’ve gotten by way of Teacher Appreciation week, which is going to be next week.

 

On Monday, I received this pleasure-bomb in my inbox:

 

Hello everyone! For those of you who have sent in your donations, thank you! For those of you who haven’t, please have your donations in by Thursday (min of 3 dollars). 

On Friday I will be decorating our classroom dope with superheroes. I would like every child to color a picture of their favorite super hero. Please send these to me (you can fold them neatly in an envelope of just put a sticky on that says room parent). I will be cutting out the colorings and glueing then on a poster board. I think this will be more personal :)

Also, Monday the kids will need to bring in a flower for their teacher to put in a vase when they get to school. 

One last thing, I also would like to send cards made by the kids to mrs _______. Please have your cards send to me no later than Friday. 

Let me know if you have any questions. Thank you! 

OVERZEALOUS ROOM PARENT

 

 

First of all, I can’t even with the tone of the whole thing. Something about it just sets me on edge and makes me NOT WANT to do any of the things she’s asking? demanding? we all do. Kind of like ‘you’re not the boss of me’ with a little ‘lol at you’ on the side. I don’t know. That’s probably not fair of me, but there it is.

 

Let’s go over a few of the details, though.

 

“For those of you who have sent in your donations, thank you! For those of you who havien’t, please have your donations in by Thursday (min of 3 dollars).”

 

Since when can you put a minimum on a donation? Answer: You cannot. A donation is a gift and you don’t get to tell people how much they have to give. I mean, technically the minimum is zero because people don’t have to donate. If this is a requirement, then you are looking for a different word.

 

“On Friday I will be decorating our classroom dope with superheroes.”

 

LOL, what? Do I really want someone who can’t be bothered to proofread an email doing what is clearly the most important job in kindergarten? (Also, is it wrong of me to worry that my child is going to come home one day plastered in superheroes? JUST KIDDING, SHE’S BRILLIANT, FYI.)

 

“Please send these to me (you can fold them neatly in an envelope of just put a sticky on that says room parent). I will be cutting out the colorings and glueing then on a poster board. I think this will be more personal :).”

 

Couple of things. 1) Did you really have to tell us to fold them neatly? I mean, I was totally going to have my kid color her heart out, then crumple that shit into a ball and toss it in the bottom of her backpack. Maybe spill a little applesauce on it for good measure…

 

2) I have absolutely no idea how you cutting them out and glueing them on poster board will make this more personal. It’s only going to make it harder for the teacher to fit it in the garbage can when appreciation week is over. But I’m sure your cutting job will be perfection and right on the lines, so at least there’s that.

 

3) You meant or. Not of. Maybe those cuttings won’t be right on the line after all, eh? But that’s okay! We are in kindergarten and things don’t need to be perfect. … Actually maybe you don’t mean or. Do you mean and? What is happening.

 

“Also, Monday the kids will need to bring in a flower for their teacher to put in a vase when they get to school.”

 

Okay, first of all, no they don’t. The kids don’t need to do anything. You’re not my mom. Secondly, luckily I have a vase of fresh cut flowers in my home all the time (because I am an AWESOME PINTEREST MOM, FOR REAL). But if I didn’t? I would TOTALLY allow my child to pick some random weed flower from a field and call it a day.

 

“One last thing, I also would like to send cards made by the kids to mrs _______. Please have your cards send to me no later than Friday.”


So, let me get this straight, in addition to their homework, this week we also need to draw and color superheroes, fold them neatly and get them to school, bring in $3 and magically figure out who you are to give it to you, pick a freaking flower and have that thing not die before the teacher gets it, and make a homemade card.

 

No problem. I actually wasn’t even doing anything this week, anyway. Because with five year olds, you know that NONE of this shit is going to take less than two hours a piece.

 

Even still, I was going to do this (I’m still going to do it, but with less enthusiasm). I have it on my to-do list today and everything.

 

Then this morning, at 6:30 a.m. I get this gem in my inbox:

 

Hi everyone. I’m still missing donations. We only have 30 dollars so far. It will be very difficult for me to do everything I’m requires to with only 30 dollars. Please send in your donations they are due by Friday. 

In addition, I have not received any superhero colorings from the kids or hand made cards for mrs __________. I have to decorate the classroom door Friday at 1:45 so I need everyone’s colorings no later than Thursday. 

Let me know of you have any questions. 

Thanks! OVERZEALOUS ROOM PARENT

 

 

So many issues, here. First of all, this was sent on Wednesday at ass in the morning, when in the previous email the deadlines were clearly stated, and none of them were Wednesday at ass in the morning. We are grown ups, lady. We can handle our business, and know what deadlines mean. Thanks.

 

Secondly, I mean just look at this. I laughed.

 

“I’m still missing donations.” The only way to miss donations, as was pointed out on my Facebook earlier, is if they are stolen or lost once you’ve received them. People are not required to donate, therefore, you are not missing their non-requirement.

 

“We only have 30 dollars so far.”

 

Okay, this is my surprised face that you even have more than zero dollars so far because it is hardly even Wednesday when you sent this and the donations aren’t “due” until Friday. So, clearly, many many many parents have their shit together way better than me. 

 

“It will be very difficult for me to do everything I’m requires to with only 30 dollars. Please send in your donations they are due by Friday.”

 

What in God’s name are you “requires” to do with this money? I need to know this. What could you possibly be required to do with money parents donated for their kids’ teacher other than buy her a gift with that money? And if that’s the requirement, then surely you can find something rad (like wine) to give her for $30. Moot point because you’re going to get more money anyway, and PS, you didn’t have to bully us into it. It’s coming, hold your gift-horses.

 

“In addition, I have not received any superhero colorings from the kids or hand made cards for mrs __________.”

 

This just made me lol. Of course you didn’t. COME ON. Something about the tone of this, I can’t.

 

“Let me know of you have any questions.”

 

I just have one question. Who made you the boss of me, though?

 

Actually, I have another one. What about the families who are struggling and can’t donate right now? Or those horribly shitty parents who, you know, work, and therefore haven’t had time to address your bullshit yet? Can’t we be a little more sensitive to different people’s situations? Can’t we ask people for their time and effort and money instead of acting entitled to it and then peeved when it doesn’t come three days before it’s “due”? Just wondering.

 

 

Now, lest you think I’m just a jerk (which, sustained, I know I am). I have twins. And my other twin also has a room parent. And she’s looking for the same things. And she has managed to alert me to this TWICE just like the first one up there. And she hasn’t annoyed me once.

 

First thing she did right was send the first note home with the kids. So, I’m already in school mode when I’m looking at it.

 

Second, her follow-up email looked like this:

 

 

Good Evening Fellow Miss ________ Class Parents! 

I just wanted to give you the SUPER HERO update for our super teacher appreciation week that is planned for NEXT WEEK! 

Today your child has in his/her backpack a full detailed outline of the upcoming events….if this paperwork has self destructed before making it home…please see attached files. 

Please send in any donations that you are able to contribute for Miss ________ class gift…this will be the BIG end of year gift a special way to say “Thank you” for the OUTTA this WORLD job she has done with our children! Send your donation in a gift card or monetary donation marked “Room Mom.” I pull together our contributions and purchase her something special from ALL of us…or if you wish you may acknowledge her individually. I really just want her to know how special she is this week for all of her SUPER HERO teaching she has provided to our kiddos throughout the year! 

Please remember to send in your “SECRET AGENT” homework that your child received today by THURSDAY, APRIL 31 so I can process the data and plan for a surprise door decoration for her on Friday.

Please remember to send your child with a FLOWER on Monday to give to Miss _______ for a special Teacher Appreciation Week Blast OFF!!! 

Thank you for all of your support, REGULAR ROOM PARENT

 

Dear OVERZEALOUS ROOM PARENT,

 

Please see REGULAR ROOM PARENT for how to get people on board with plans, act as if everyone is equal, and in general have people like you.

 

Sincerely,

 

FRAZZLED TWIN PARENT

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