The chips ahoy rule: a CityMom’s story
The Chips Ahoy Rule Or… how I learned to stop “sweating the small stuff.” A tale of how a package of cookies changed my perspective on parenting, marriage, and self-care.
On a random Thursday in January, my son’s Pre-K teacher sent all parents a message: “Tomorrow afternoon we’re having a pizza & pajama day to celebrate the letter P! If you would like to contribute to the party, cookies or juice is appreciated.”
I am a teacher, and I know how crucial parent involvement is in these events. I also know how easy it will be to add cookies to the never-ending grocery list I have going in my head, so I add a pack to my Shipt app to be delivered later that evening. I get the kind with the fake M&Ms in them (“candy filled”) that I’m sure a class of pre-k’ers will love.
My husband and I have two boys, ages 4.5 (Joey) and 19 months (Sam). Our mornings can be crazy sometimes, but usually, things are under control. We divvy things evenly, but it’s my job to get the boys’ stuff prepped for the next day; I pack backpacks and restock diapers, wipes, and whatever else the daycare needs.
The next morning is a bit crazier than normal, for no reason whatsoever… It’s January, it’s dark, Joey doesn’t want to get his shoes on, Sam is screaming (he’s in a big clingy “mama!” phase), and as I’m passing him to Paul to take to school, I almost forget to hand him the cookies! So, I run back to the counter and grab them.
Baby, check. Backpack, check. Show & tell item, check. Cookies, check.
Joey is in his jammies, Sam is screaming, but they’re clean, fed. Although it was hectic and stressful, everything’s fine. (Kind of like that one dumpster fire meme? Fine, but not fine.)
I take a deep breath, pour my coffee, and am out the door minutes after them. And guess what? It turns out to be a great day! Pajama and pizza day is a success. Everyone comes home in a happy mood.
A few days later, on a rare date night, I see it sitting in the back seat.
You guessed it: The box of Chips Ahoy.
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Now, this was following our steak dinners and my cocktail, so by that point, not much was bothering me. Instead of becoming angry, I didn’t mention the cookies. As we drove home, I had the profound realization that despite all my efforts to get the cookies and ensure Paul had them that morning …the world did not end. Everything turned out fine. Actually, better than fine, it was good!
I realized the pressure I put on myself to do it all… has no effect on whether or not my children have a good day at school.
Joey’s class was still able to have their pizza & pajama day. Their party did not pass or fail based on our contribution of cookies. Joey didn’t love me any less because I did not bring the cookies in. I was not any less of a devoted, involved, and engaged parent. Everyone still had a great day.
So the Chips Ahoy rule is this, working mothers: If you find yourself in a situation where you question whether or not you can contribute an item, time, or money to something for your kid… Do as little or as much as you feel comfortable doing. The world will not end if you do not contribute a box of cookies to PJ Day. We know you’re going to be there when it counts. You’re there for your kid, putting in the hard work day in and day out; you’re there for your kids when it matters.
And the Chips Ahoy rule is this, women: If you find yourself pissed at your husband because they don’t carry so much of that mental load: take a little bit of it off your shoulders, too. Because that’s the other side of this story. I’ve stopped nitpicking myself for every little thing. If I’m blow drying my hair and notice an eyebrow hair out of place, I don’t even bother plucking it anymore. I say to myself “Chips Ahoy!”
And do you want to know how long those cookies sat in my husband’s car? Almost 2 months!!
We joked about it and decided to save them for Valentine’s Day. But he forgot to bring them inside…. And then they fell underneath the backseat and he lost track of them.
Eventually, though, he brought them into the house, and we ate those Chips Ahoy as a family.
But I ate the last of them. All by myself.
This post was written by Carah Kennedy, one of our fabulous CityMoms! Thanks so much, Carah!
