Holiday cheer.

Several years ago, Staples ran television back-to-school ads with the Andy Williams Christmas hit "It's The Most Wonderful Time of The Year" showing a dad cavorting down the aisles of the store, followed by a couple of sullen pre-teens.

My husband and I thought the ads were hysterical. My kids, rather predictably, did not.

This week they returned to school (except for the NLDB*, who is still recovering from surgery). Which means my schedule goes nuts. Especially once the NLDB returns to school and has early morning band practice every morning and late afternoon band practice twice a week, and with the other kids' appointments and activities.

Part of me is contemplating the mommy wars and what we do to each other as women and why some stay-at-home-mothers look down on employed mothers (and why don't they look down on employed fathers?), and why some employed mothers sneer at stay-at-home mothers (and does this mean that they feel justified in sneering at paid nannies, since they fulfill similar functions?). And how the media feeds the flames. And how the mommy wars are in nobody's best interest except big business, because as long as it can be categorized as a "women's issue" they don't have to deal with wholesale changes to the workplace to make it less hostile to all parents and families.

Except that's old news. Furthermore, I'm way too tired. I've spent this week in the elusive search for ..... school supplies.

Don't laugh.

I usually do not wait until the night before to get supplies, but we had other issues to deal with (see NLDB, above, and surgery). Usually, I shop in advance, and am able to get to the office supply store before the rush and get everything the schools require us to have. Not this time. Big mistake. Trying to find school supplies the evening before school started was like trying to find that perfect gift at 6 p.m. on Christmas Eve.**

Each year, the lists from the elementary school seem to get more complicated. And it's not just that my kid is getting older: looking at the list for younger grades, those look more complicated, too. Some of this is a function of reduced school spending which has parents buying supplies that were once bought by the school (such as rolls of paper towels and kleenex). (And Post-It notes: second graders use those?) But it is also more demands on the part of the school about the supplies the parents buy for use by their children.

Now they specify brands. Crayons and colored pencils have to be Crayola ("no Rose-Art, please!"). Magic Rub erasers. Fiskar scissors. Scotch tape. Avery glue sticks. Mead binders and notebooks. Mead composition books.

They specify number, too. Which would be fine, except sometimes the number they specify is either hard to find, or confusing. Apparently, Crayola fine-line markers come in an 8-pack. Funny, none of the stores I was at had them. I sent a 10-pack. Similarly, most places had either 8 or 24 box of crayons, not 16. And I did not send Fiskar scissors, and went generic for erasers and glue sticks. To hell with it.

What I cannot understand is how this insistence on brand-name loyalty advances any legitimate educational purpose. The only purposes I can think of are: a) the school is getting a kickback from Crayola, Avery, etc., b) the PTA makes enough money off of selling pre-orders of school supply bundles that they try to make it as difficult as possible to buy the things on your own, or c) if kids didn't have exactly the same supplies, it would interfere with classroom instruction.

Is it that the kids tease those whose supplies don't make the grade? Or is it that the schools are worried about kids whose parents bought them more, perhaps with a crayon arms race developing? This is not a poor school, and I'm pretty sure provides supplies for kids who need them, so I don't know that it is that.

You know what? This strikes me as a golden teaching opportunity. Maybe instead of insisting everyone has exactly the same markers, we can teach them the virtues of perspective and minding your own business, and worrying more about what you are going to draw with your crayons than how many Jason has. And maybe Jason can learn that having more shades of blue is less important than how you use your imagination.

Of course, what do I know? I'm no teacher. I'm simply a really cranky, middle-aged woman who has had to rifle through one too many bins of Crayola Brand colored pencils, and run out for a calculator because the NLDB lost the TI-83X graphing calculator I bought him last year, and he needed to keep up with the work he's missing in school. (No, I didn't buy him another graphing calculator. We're in negotiation about whether he is going to pay to replace it, and if so, what portion.)

Hey, next week the real fun starts... Homework!

I think I need to go to sleep. Wake me when Christmas rolls around.



*Not so Little Drummer Boy. He's 5'11". Or would be, IF HE DIDN'T SLOUCH ALL THE TIME (are you listening, kid?)

** The Office Depot near where I live even had "extended back-to-school hours."