Getting Schooled: The Lessons No Parent Signed Up for

When did juggling become a real-life parenting skill rather than something learned at circus camp? With school emails, apps and activities thrown into the mix, it’s time to embrace the art of dropping the ball…

There’s a particular kind of panic that sets in at 6.40am on a Tuesday when you’re sipping coffee, scrolling through emails, and spot the subject line: “URGENT: Dress-Up Day Tomorrow!” Actually, scratch that – Dress-Up Day today! And it’s not for one child, but four. Four children, each with their own entirely unrelated theme. Ancient Egypt. Favourite book character. A vegetable. And, inexplicably, space explorer.

Suddenly, you’re rifling through drawers, debating whether a tea towel could pass for a pharaoh’s headdress and if it’s acceptable to send your child as a carrot in an orange T-shirt and green baseball cap. (Spoiler: It is.)

I often wonder what schools think parents are doing all day. Do they imagine us perched at home, sipping tea, waiting for a new notification to spring us into action? Or perhaps they believe we have a secret stash of costumes, craft supplies, and endless patience, just waiting for their next grand request.

In the age of hyper-connectedness, school communication is no longer a simple newsletter tucked into a backpack once a week. No, it’s an unrelenting avalanche. Emails pour in with subject lines like “Important Update!” and “Immediate Action Required.” WhatsApp groups buzz incessantly with messages that somehow manage to be both vague and urgent. Then there’s Seesaw, an app that is meant to streamline communications but somehow ends up confusing everyone. Multiply this by four kids, and you have a fulltime job managing school logistics alone.

And then there are the school trips. These aren’t straightforward ‘sign a form and send a cheque’ affairs anymore. No, they require payments through a very specific third-party app, which you’ll inevitably struggle to log into at the eleventh hour. That is of course if you manage to miraculously remember your password. Add to that the pre-trip chaos: endless forms to fill out, reminders to pack specific items (and not others), and the sudden need to hunt down a pair of homeroom-coloured-waterproof shoes at 9pm. As if that weren’t enough, signing your kids up for extra-curricular activities (ECAs) has become its own competitive sport. The moment the registration link is live, it’s like a race to a Chanel sale – only instead of bags, you’re fighting for a coveted spot in after-school robotics. Blink, and all that’s left is ‘Pottery for Beginners’ on a Monday at 7am.

And let’s not forget the tone of these messages. They always carry an air of cheerful urgency, as if you’re being asked to bake a dozen cupcakes in the shape of the solar system for a charity bake sale, but only if you have time.

Here’s the thing: schools, society and social media all seem to subscribe to this myth that parents – particularly mothers – should be able to do it all. Show up at the office in power suits, juggle a dozen work deadlines, and still have the energy to craft a papier-mâché volcano for the science fair. It’s as if we’re meant to live in this perfect state of balance, gracefully gliding between roles without ever dropping a ball.

But balance is a myth. The truth is, we’re all just trying to survive. Some days, that means delivering a stellar work presentation while remembering it’s ‘Wear Your Pyjamas to School Day’. Other days, it means sending your child to school with mismatched socks because you couldn’t find a pair during the morning chaos. And that’s okay.

The solution isn’t more apps, more messages, or more ‘helpful reminders’. The solution is simplicity. One platform, one consolidated message a week, and perhaps a little less enthusiasm for themed days that require parents to perform small miracles.

Parents, on the other hand, need to embrace imperfection. The carrot costume might not win awards, and the solar system cupcakes might come from a bakery instead of your kitchen, but your child won’t remember the details. They’ll remember that you showed up, frazzled but present, and that’s what matters.

If parenting has taught me anything, it’s that you don’t need to ‘have it all’ or ‘do it all’ to succeed. You just need to laugh at the absurdity, cut corners where you can, and remind yourself that it’s okay to say no.

So, here’s my advice: if you’re ever faced with a last-minute dress-up day, grab the tea towel, the orange T-shirt and whatever else is lying around. Send your child out the door with love, and maybe trousers. Everything else will sort itself out.

Portrait: Supplied. Image: Shutterstock

Harper’s Bazaar Arabia Juniors’ Spring/Summer 2025