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Springtime & Kids: A Letter to the School Nurse

Springtime & Kids: A Letter to the School Nurse

There was a glimmer of sunshine and warmth last week, and it broke my resolve. And I’ve been feeling a little guilty ever since, so I wanted to write this open letter to my daughter’s school nurse.

Dear Nurse Blake:

I want you to know that I read all the notices you send home. And I take them seriously. Well, there was that time that I spilled a bottle of olive oil over the kitchen counter, and it saturated the note, but I’m pretty sure I saw the word “lice” on it before I gingerly tossed the oil-slicked paper out, and I promise I did a nit-check.

And yes, I have read every notice that you have sent home during this terribly vile winter in the northeast imploring parents to be sure to send their children to school properly dressed for the weather. And I have complied. Not only have I been happy to comply, I have even conveniently used your notices to threaten gently persuade my daughter to actually wear her hat and gloves rather than merely stow them in her backpack.

Little girl wearing spring outfitBut this morning, we saw the sun for the first time since the Autumnal equinox. And my daughter bounded down the stairs in a summer skirt. Above her knees. And I didn’t stop her. I did make her put on her snow boots, and she was quite a site to see, with about 12 inches of leg exposed, but I couldn’t bring myself to force her into her wool pants one more time. I promise I shoved a pair of leggings into her backpack, along with her snow pants, but I didn’t make her put them on. I convinced myself that she would be doing her part to improve the emotional well-being all around her. You know, doing her part to nurse us all back from a serious collective case of seasonal affective disorder.

So please rest assured, I mean no disrespect. I will keep all our peanut products at home. I will do lice checks every time you ask (and then some). I will shower the classroom with hand sanitizer and tissues. And yes, when the sun retreats, as it most surely will (I am a veteran of the April Fool’s Day blizzard of ’97), I will cover those second grade legs. But for today, I buckled, and I let down my guard, and I felt warm inside as I watched that vision of springtime optimism walk out the door and into school, bare legs and all.

– Media Mom


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