I love teachers, but ...
There just has to be a better way to handle back-to-school shopping. Each year seems worse than the previous: longer, more specific supply lists; crowded, under-stocked stores; and budget-blowing prices on items that simply aren't made to last.
Don't get me wrong. I have an extreme appreciation for the work that teachers do. And I know that many dip deep into their own pockets to cover classroom supplies, more and more each year as school budgets are increasingly cut. I realize that the pains of back-to-school shopping are not the teachers' fault. But still … there has to be a better way.
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The good old days
Back-to-school shopping was a big deal when I was a kid. Other than our birthdays and occasionally at Christmas, it was the only time we received new clothes and new shoes. Picking out a new outfit was pretty exciting, but even that didn't top buying new school supplies. The crisp notebook pages, the bright white erasers, the pencil crayons with perfectly pointed tips -- I loved it all! Even as a five-year-old, I recognized that back-to-school shopping signified the ultimate fresh start; it was the beginning of a year full of new adventures and endless opportunities.
If my mother felt differently about hauling four kids around the city to empty her wallet on items she'd likely never see again, she never showed it. Back-to-school shopping was always an exciting family event, and even though we might not have gotten the brand-name shoes we wanted, we always came home with something that made us feel special.
I tried to be that parent when my daughter first started Kindergarten. I tried to make back-to-school shopping a fun, bonding experience. But I failed miserably, and have continued to do so every year since.
Reasons why back-to-school shopping sucks
First, there are the school supply lists that grow longer every year as school budgets shrink. This year, in addition to staple items like scissors, paper and pencils, I have to buy Kleenex, hand sanitizer, white board markers and white board erasers. At this rate, I won't be surprised if next year's list includes a package of toilet paper. Or coffee filters for the staff lounge.
And on top of that, the lists are ridiculously specific because of course all of the kids have to have the exact same things. So you can't buy just any markers; you have to buy the eight-pack standard colour Crayola markers that Crayola apparently no longer makes because they aren't available anywhere. And you don't just have to buy 12 duotangs, which are conveniently sold in packs of four. You have to buy 1 white, 1 green, 2 red, 2 light blue, 2 dark blue, 2 yellow, 1 pink and 1 grey. Which means driving around to six different stores to track down a $0.15 product.
And, if you buy into the idea that back-to-school shopping is fun for the whole family as all the marketing indicates (and as I used to), then you commit to schlepping your kids in and out of multiple parking lots, and navigating too big shopping carts down too narrow store aisles packed with other demanding kids and stressed out parents.
And of course your kids want the cartoon character lunch box that's twice the cost, but half the quality. And of course your kid wants the smelly markers that happen to be on sale, but are absolutely not on the list.
And no matter how much you strive to be a smart shopper, it's impossible to keep the dollars from adding up. Do you buy the cheap backpack that will likely fall apart in six months, or the expensive one that should last for a few years, even though there is a good chance that your kid will lose it. If your kids are like mine, the only school supplies you'll ever see again are a few chewed up pencil nubs and some dried out markers.
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And it takes all of your mental energy to keep track of which items you've added to the cart, and to keep your kids from slipping in extras. By the time you've spent all of your money, you're exhausted. But the fun isn't over yet, because now you get to go home and sharpen 80 pencils and label every individual crayon, eraser and pen with your child's full name.
How to beat the system
I've tried every thing I can think of to make back-to-school shopping easer on my wallet and on my mental health.
I've gone the easy route and ordered my supplies online from a school supply company. All I had to do was choose my classroom list and they filled my order and shipped it to my door. It was premium service, but it came at a premium cost. (The markers alone were four times the sale price at the local box store.)
So the next year, I tried the opposite approach. I scouted the store flyers for the best sales, and planned what to buy at each location. But this took hours of time, especially since the stores with the best sales seemed to have the least amount of stock, meaning more planning and more shopping trips.
This year, I thought I'd finally figured out the trick. I'd do my shopping online, but from the local big box stores. This way, I'd get the best deals, save loads of time and maybe even treat myself to a glass of wine while I shopped -- wIn, win, win!
Only it turned out that half the stuff on the lists was either out of stock online or only available in store. F%#$. Online shopping wasn't going to work.
It was 6 pm on a Friday night -- the last Friday in July. I looked at our calendar. My next free evening wouldn't be until mid-August. I flash-backed to the bedraggled book bags, torn notebooks and empty marker bins I'd run into the last time I'd waited that long. Shopping for school supplies at the end of August is like looking for survivors on a field after battle. It's not pretty.
Reluctantly, I packed up my toddler (thankfully, my older kids where vacationing with the in-laws), and we headed into the city. I braced myself for a miserable evening of crying kids (both mine and strangers'), chaotic store aisles and unlimited stress.
But when we walked through the doors at the local box store, I couldn't believe my eyes. The newly stocked shelves where brimming with organized, shiny new supplies -- and next-to-no customers. I zipped through the aisles, tossing items in the cart and checking them off the list. Even with frequent stops to pick up the shoes my toddler dropped for entertainment, and a couple of side trips for household goods, we were done in under an hour.
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Then came the check out line. Again, I braced myself for the worst. But the total -- although not cheap -- was surprisingly reasonable. At least, it was within a range I could live with without having to give up the next week's groceries. Hell, I'd even splurged on an electric pencil sharpener, because sharpening 80 pencils by hand is the shits.
We made one quick stop at another store to grab an elusive white duo tang, and then we headed home.
I was a bit worried my kids would feel like they missed out since I'd done all the shopping without them. But it turned out that they didn't care. At all.
Turns out the real trick to back-to-school shopping is to do it sans kids the second the back-to-school flyers come out!
A happy compromise
Part of me wants to rebel against buying school supplies in July. It seems unfair to have to think about the hectic fall-time in the middle of what should be a relaxing summer. But then I realize, "It's done." And I still have a full month of summer to enjoy without the looming stress of back-to-school shopping.
So for the next 16 plus years that I buy school supplies, I will hit the stores the second the back-to-school commercials hit the air. Probably on a quiet Friday night. Hopefully without my kids. And if this year's experience holds true, then maybe shopping for school supplies won't be that bad.
Although if my kids' teachers ever decide to just buy their classroom supplies in bulk, I'll be more than happy to write them a cheque. 😉