Tipping the Scales

In a country that has a mad obsession with weight (specifically, the need to lose it), it's interesting that in my house, we have the opposite scenario going on. Rather than trying to lose weight, I have a 12 year old desperately hoping to gain it.

My Chase has always been on the smaller side--except when he was born at a healthy 8 lbs 12 oz--so as his friends have shot up in height and weight in the past year, my guy has yet to crest 5 feet and every 10 lbs mark he surpasses is cause for celebration. When you're a lacrosse player, having everyone else bigger and taller does you no favors. Ah puberty--where are you? The moodiness has arrived; shouldn't the growth spurt come along with it? Get a little good with the bad? I'm feeling gypped at the moment.

The other night, Chase went upstairs to take his nightly shower and after the water shut off, I heard him calling for me: Mom! I need you to come here please!

So up I went, knowing this had nothing to do with needing help shampooing his hair or drying off since he's been handling this solo for quite a while. I walked into the bathroom and my still unabashed son was standing at the mirror in all his birthday suit glory, styling the hair. "I have to show you something," he gushed.

Hmmm, I thought. He's naked and excited about something worth seeing. Is this really something I want to see? I was leery. "Come here, come here," he insisted, whereupon he strolled (strutted?) over to the scale and stepped aboard. Our digital scale considered the new heft on it and ultimately pronounced him a whopping 91 pounds. A grin split Chase's face Cheshire-cat-style. He hadn't just hopped over the 90 lb mark, he'd gotten to a full ninety-one pounds.

He was thrilled; I was thrilled for him. And I thought: rare is the time you delight in seeing the scale inch up; we'll enjoy it while we can.

The Pocketbook Doth Suffer

So it's nearly back to school time around these parts. Actually it's past back to school time but my particular county is comprised of two halves that are polar opposites when it comes to the pocketbook size of the inhabitants, and managed from the lower end of that scale, it found itself with huge budgetary issues--surprise!--so our kids have gotten an added two weeks of summer. A nice benefit for us; too bad it takes colossal mismanagement of tax payer dollars to get it. And even after all the moola we shell into the system, we as parents still end up paying out the wazoo for school stuff, don't we? I hate to sound like I'm 67 but I swear it wasn't like this when I was growing up.

I do not recall needing extra hands to tote in all the extra school supplies my mother was asked to buy for me in middle school. Today, it's not just pencils, paper and notebooks you need to provide your child. It's also crayons, glue sticks, erasers, dry erase markers (but no board, hmmm...who are these for, exactly?), highlighters, red pens and blue pens (no gel), paper, 15 sizes of notebooks, notebook dividers, paper clips, pencil pouches, compasses, calculators, scissors, tissues, hand sanitizer, locker shelves, paper towels, and an extra $20 to grease the palm of the principal. Next thing you know, we'll be responsible for our own kid's chairs and a desk. And oh yeah, throw in a chalkboard while you're at it.

What have my tax dollars paid for? Union teacher salaries? School supplies for the lower end schools whose parents aren't dumb enough to be suckered into spending more money over and above taxes to buy all this? I remember when schools had scissors there--lots of 'em. And erasers too, amazingly.

I also remember when school lunches came in one variety and cost $.50 a day. And even then, I was on the reduced meal plan--please go to a completely different area of the school to purchase your "I can't afford the entire $.50" lunch tickets--and when you get them, they're red and all the normal priced tickets are green so everyone knows you're at the lower end of the socioeconomic scale. No humiliation there.

Tonight, I had to factor my son's lunch costs into my household monthly budget because it's not the kind of coin you just pull out of your pocket when your child says he needs lunch money. It runs us about $100 a month; and Chase is not a big eater. $5/day he spends on lunches because the school offers choices. There's the traditional mystery meat + 2 mushy vegetables + fruit cup lunch. Or there's the lunch line with stars and glitter and neon flashing lights, where all the cool kids shop for buffalo wings, fries, big pretzels, milkshakes, Gatorades, Nestle Quik chocolate milk and other fantastic food options I myself wouldn't mind having for lunch. Naturally, where do all the kids migrate like moths to a flame? Hmmm, Sh!t on a Shingle or food that's good enough to serve outside of school? And thus, $100 a month for lunch. But after my days of walking around with the red tickets instead of the green, I won't foist the mystery meat option on him, even if it does taste pretty good with enough gravy.

Ah, the days of 6:30 a.m. wake-ups and homework will soon be back. In the vernacular of the great Shakespeare: And thus, my pocketbook doth suffer.