i am sitting at gymnastics. watching my three year old. my three year old who likes to talk loud and sing talyor swift songs louder. sitting there proud. proud that she is not crying. proud that she went in to class without much bribery. not much. just a gum ball’s worth.
so i am sitting in my four year old jeans and shoes splattered with paint just sitting. listening. trying not to listen. but can’t help listen. listen to moms talk loud. louder than they should loud. loud so anyone can hear their business loud.
i am sitting listening to them complain.complain in their four day old jeans and pay for my grocery shoes. complain about schools. complain about unfair dress codes in schools. complain about one of the top ten schools in the state complain. complain about the buses. the buses with air conditioning that pick their kids up form school every day. everyday they don’t have to get their mary janes scuffed. complain. complain about a fundraiser at school. a fundraiser that raises more money than most schools will never see. complain.
and i sit. i sit and am sad. i am sad. i am sad for the emptiness they must feel. the emptiness to believe that any of it matters. that what school your kids go to will matter. they go to school. that what your kids wear or don’t wear matters. they have clothes. that the bus they ride matters. they have a bus to ride.
i am sad that we think this matters.
i am sad if we teach our kids that it matters.
so i sit and watch. and stop listening. stop listening to what doesn’t matter.