‘Chat with other parents in the schoolyard? I’m disgusted by that

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Maaike adores her children Max (8) and Fien (11). And also at the school they attend. In theory, that is, because she prefers not to come.

My husband usually picks up and brings the kids to and from school and I’m happy about that. He still likes it too. For him it is the perfect time to chat with other fathers and to joke with the teachers. He can. He sees the humor in it, everything that happens in and around that schoolyard. I know now that my oldest is in group 7, I have no talent for it at all.

Put me in the pub and I’ll have a great time, let me give a Powerpoint presentation, I don’t turn my hand around for it, but I don’t feel comfortable in the schoolyard. This is how we arranged it well together: he brings and picks up the children on most days. He knows the people in and around school. Like him, I am in contact with the teachers, via the app, by telephone or during discussions at school.

Mandatory chatting

The few times I am in the schoolyard, I hide behind a large hedge as much as possible until I see my children approaching. The idea of ​​having to chat with other mothers or fathers disgusts me. I’m not shy at all, but I feel awkward.

“All those questions from mothers, it really makes me nervous”

People can ask so many questions that it makes me nervous. I do share personal things with my friends, so I don’t have to discuss them in the schoolyard. I try to keep it superficial by talking about the weather or events at school, even though I notice from some interlocutors that they don’t think that’s enough. Then they want to know more or tell you everything. But I’m not going to start on that, I already hear more than I like. I suspect that other parents think I’m fierce, because I always cut off gossip immediately. “Dude, what Kim’s mother is up to with Noah’s father is really none of my business,” I say, for example.

Clumsy vibe

In addition, I don’t like that clumsy vibe from school, that Lice Mother vibe. For example, there is that one father who wants to stand out – which is not really necessary because he is 2.10 meters tall and therefore attracts attention anyway. But as soon as he enters the schoolyard he screams loudly “Good day!!!” to no one in particular.

There is also the mother who is always trying to win souls for the battle she is currently fighting – that it is not okay that women are not allowed to join the men’s choir or that we should revolt because there are no more may be waved to children after the school bell has rung in the morning (which seems reasonable to me, those children are only distracted by it anyway).

Finally, there are the villainous class parents – often mothers – who, I think personally, ensure that if you do something wrong in their eyes, your child will fall three steps down the social ladder. The idea of ​​the mother mafia, I didn’t believe in it before I had children, but I now know that it does exist at our school.

Read also – Mama is also nice: ‘A class parent for a year? It became seven’ >

Hierarchy

That hierarchy in the schoolyard, I still don’t know the codes very well after seven years. It took me a few years to find out that whoever spends a lot of time in the schoolyard also determines the mores. Those mores are not mine. I like to work as efficiently as possible, for example. The more time I have left for the family. So I work hard on working days and spend as little time as possible on meetings, my inbox or chatting with colleagues. A line that I like to extend to the schoolyard, but that is where things are quiet and friendly. Great for the kids, great for parents who have or can make time for that, but I don’t have the patience for it.

But it goes further than just the square, there is also such a thing as the app group. The low point in that area for now was the Christmas dinner. For this, parents must bring one type of snack, on the sign-up list you could indicate what you were going to buy or make. A father who had not seen the list asked via the app group if he could bring mini pizzas. One mother responded with: “No I already do, #yousnoozeyoulooze.” I wanted to respond with: “Well, the Christmas spirit is already well in this year”, but I held back.

What does it bring me? I once emailed the headmistress to say that I thought it was a bit much what we all had to do for the Christmas and summer holidays. Then I got back, “Most moms like this.” Well. I also once told a mother on the party committee that I thought it was too much work: collecting glass jars, stuff for a Christmas piece, an ugly Christmas sweater and a chic outfit for dinner. And all that in one week. She thought I shouldn’t make a fuss, that it was fun for the kids.

Class parents

I also now know that the ‘influential’ parents not only determine what happens at school in terms of the amount of festivities, but even how the children are treated in class by their children. For example, there was a class party at my daughter’s house, organized by the children of the two class mothers. What I didn’t realize was that other children were supposed to bring gifts as a thank you for the efforts of the class mothers.

The class mother children had made two rows during the party, in the middle of the dance floor, with children who had brought a present and the children who had not. Public naming and shaming. Nobody said anything about that. There my child stood in front of the pile, along with some other children who had not brought a present either. Neither my husband, nor I, nor some of the other parents had thought that we should buy gifts for the class mother children. Could we have known? How?!

“Suddenly my daughter was the jerk of the class”

Our daughter had subsequently been relegated to being the weakling in the class—until I sent a nice text message to one of the class moms. Then suddenly her daughter was nicer to mine again. I’m not making this up. The problem is, I’m not good at this. I don’t know how to behave at all when I see the mother in question in the schoolyard. Then I just nod and quickly walk on.

condemn

Finally, I have the impression that other mothers judge me because I don’t often help with lice, cycling, picking up, decorating or cleaning. Sometimes there will be a message with: “We need four more parents to come and help with… It would be nice if you could sign up, here is the sign-up list.” To which I do not respond.