Cork Views: Every September, those three famous words appear in the chat....Just a reminder

Every year, we convince ourselves this will finally be the September we have it all together… and every September has other plans.

It is the middle of August and, once again, I have convinced myself this September will be different. The year I am organised. The uniforms will be bought early, labelled perfectly, and ready before the first morning panic. The lunchboxes will be prepared the night before. Nobody will be searching for football boots five minutes before leaving the house. I will have the family calendar colour-coded and my life running like a well-oiled machine.

I even buy the planner. One with sections for meal plans, goals, appointments, and weekly organisation. One that makes me believe I am only a few coloured pens away from becoming the kind of person who has everything under control.

For about 48 hours, I genuinely believe it.

Then September arrives.

And September has a way of reminding us that, no matter how organised we are, life will always find a way to interrupt our plans.

It always starts with the school supplies. Somehow, every year, the pencil cases become completely unsuitable over the summer. Despite the fact our house contains enough stationery to supply a small classroom, a new pencil case suddenly becomes essential.

“Do we not already have about ten pencil cases?” I ask.

“Yes,” comes the reply.

“So why do we need another one?”

A pause.

“Because this one is nicer.”

And there it is.

The September logic.

The new pencil case. The fresh pencils. The brand-new rubbers. The sharpeners. The highlighters. The folders. The copies.

All perfectly organised. All full of possibility.

Because there is something about a new school year that makes us believe a fresh set of stationery might make us a more organised family.

And maybe that is the magic of September. It makes us believe we can start again.

Every September, parents everywhere quietly decide this is the year they will become the best version of themselves.

We will be more prepared. More patient. More organised. We will remember every school note. Every activity. Every special day. Every sports kit.

We will have healthy snacks ready. We will prepare meals in advance. We will never again stand in front of the fridge at 6pm wondering what on earth we are making for dinner.

It is a beautiful dream. The reality is usually slightly different.

The lunch that was supposed to be made the night before is being assembled while someone is looking for a missing sock. The water bottle that was washed and filled is nowhere to be found. And somebody suddenly remembers something important.

“Mam? I forgot to tell you something.”

That sentence is never good.

“I need something for school tomorrow...”

The moment September arrives, every sport, club and activity seems to restart at exactly the same time.

And somehow, children who spent the summer happily relaxing suddenly discover they have a passion for something new.

“Mam, I think I want to try…”

Whatever comes after those words usually involves money, another timetable, and another evening spent sitting in the car.

But we do it. Because underneath all the rushing, we want them to be happy, to find something they love, to experience friendships, confidence and the joy of being part of a team.

So we pack the bags, find boots, fill water bottles, and become part-time taxi drivers.

Then the WhatsApp messages begin. School. Class. Sports. Parents’ groups. Suddenly your phone is busier than a teenager’s.

Every message starts with those famous words: “Just a reminder…”

Those words should come with a warning. Because instantly you wonder: What did I forget? Was there a payment? A form? A special colour? A particular type of sock?

The funny thing is, every August I promise myself I will be better. More organised. More prepared. More on top of everything. But maybe my children don’t need a perfect parent.

Maybe they don’t care if the lunch was made the night before. Maybe they don’t notice if the planner is colour-coded. Maybe they won’t remember the perfectly packed school bag.

But they will remember the lift to training. The chats in the car. The cheering from the sideline. The excitement of a new school year. The moments when we laughed because Mam had to somehow solve another September emergency.

Maybe September was never about reinventing ourselves. Maybe it was always about showing up.

So yes, this year I will buy the planner. I will organise the stationery. I will convince myself this is the year I finally have everything under control.

And somewhere along the way, somebody will probably announce they need a yellow top, a green sock, a permission slip and €4.50. They will probably need it immediately.

I will probably panic. I will probably make it happen. And afterwards, I will probably laugh.

Because no matter how organised we are, no matter how prepared we are, September will always find a way to humble us.

And honestly?

Maybe that is exactly what makes it so wonderful.