What were you doing the moment you found out your child was accepted to an elite private school?

[Anonymous]

I had just gotten home from yoga at Equinox (I wanted to do something to maintain the work I'd had recently done, but didn't want to sweat in my new white Lulu leggings). As I opened the door, our live-in maid handed me a thick envelope stamped from Beauvoir. I called for young Winston Jr who was just home from his day at NCRC, carefully chosen to prep him for future academic endeavors. He knew this envelope was vital to his future as the alternative was either lesser private or Lafayette where he would never be recognized for his full potential. We opened it together and I immediately sank into my upholstered Parisian chair full of relief that Winston Jr would have a chance at carrying on the family name. I had the maid take the bumper sticker and immediately apply it to the back of our new black BMW 5 series. Thank goodness I would not have the humiliation of a child in public school.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:I had just gotten home from yoga at Equinox (I wanted to do something to maintain the work I'd had recently done, but didn't want to sweat in my new white Lulu leggings). As I opened the door, our live-in maid handed me a thick envelope stamped from Beauvoir. I called for young Winston Jr who was just home from his day at NCRC, carefully chosen to prep him for future academic endeavors. He knew this envelope was vital to his future as the alternative was either lesser private or Lafayette where he would never be recognized for his full potential. We opened it together and I immediately sank into my upholstered Parisian chair full of relief that Winston Jr would have a chance at carrying on the family name. I had the maid take the bumper sticker and immediately apply it to the back of our new black BMW 5 series. Thank goodness I would not have the humiliation of a child in public school.

Please tell me this isn’t a true story. Smh

[Anonymous]

I was in the penthouse suite of a premier NYC hotel. My summer intern was disrobing. I was watching her buxom body and I was holding in my ample gut. My third ex-wife called me and told me that Sidwell had accepted my son. No surprise as my junior law partner is on the board.

[Anonymous]

I was sitting on the toilet when the dog brought me the mail.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:Pre-K: I was skiing in Yabuli Ski Resort, China. I got a call from our housesitter, who received the 3 Big envelopes. "Madam, you have a problem: to choose one of them." I dropped the phone in the deep snow. We had to hire 3 eunuchok to find it after all.

I trusted the housesitter's choice, but it didn't work. After two years, we decided to switch schools since DC was not being challenged there.

1st grade: I was sailing in Bora Bora, French Polynesia. DC called me between his Chamicuro lesson and AP Drum class. I told him to pick one of the 2 Big envelopes, but he said it was too stressful and started crying. I dropped the phone again. Luckily, Apple released a new model the next day.

Obviously, DC made a bad choice. We applied again this year.

6th grade: This time I am dying to know and decided to stay in DC. We applied to only one school since, as you know, there are only 3 Big 3s and he had been in 2 of them. Duh. During the last two months, I stayed right here at DCUrbanMoms trying to find out if his 97% SSAT will be enough. If his B in French will be a problem. If his goalie position in soccer will erase his chances. I did my best. I follow your directions and wear my Harvard cap to the interview. I made him practice Q&A, handshake, and little lies. I told the admission people that I am great with auctions although I hate it more than I hate my MIL. Five minutes ago, I called the school and got the answering machine. Do you think it means a rejection?

Fabulous.

[Anonymous]

Bump

[Anonymous]

Now we get the results by email or online, right? Not fun at all! It’s like to get lost and be able to find the other person right way thanks to our iPhones.

The New Yorker has a good cartoon this week... The princess is waiting in the tower and the prince sends a text: “I am downstairs.”

Technology is destroying the suspense.

[Anonymous]

There's still enough suspense for some people, I promise you.

[Anonymous]

This thread always busts me up because (true story) when I found out I was literally drinking a can of Red Bull and eating a bag of Fritos at my desk, and I had just noticed that crumbs all over the front of the sweatshirt and ripped (not in a cool way) jeans I had worn to work that day. I still don't know how he got in.

Since then I've found we have little in common with the other parents at our Big 3. Sure we have a maid, but just the kind who cleans, not the kind I can beat or have sex with. It's kind of embarrassing, to be honest.

And speaking of sex, the last 5 or 6 times I did it, it was with my WIFE -- crazy, right? That's what POOR people do!

And sure I snort coke daily, but at least half the time I have to do it off my desk (because I have to work to survive -- such shame!), whereas our Big 3 peer group would never do it anywhere except off the ass of a (preferably virgin) whore. That's CLASS.

[Anonymous]

I thought it was time to revive this classic post!

Good luck to all who will hear news tomorrow.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:I thought it was time to revive this classic post!

Good luck to all who will hear news tomorrow.

Thank you PP. I love this thread every year. And this year, we actually ARE waiting to hear from DC Big 3s, so it's especially fun.

Good luck to everyone.

[Anonymous]

Barf

[Anonymous]

I was in a car accident because I kept looking at the phone while driving...turns out DC was admitted to all schools applied. I was elated to say the least...

[Anonymous]

I was knee deep in treating a patient with a bad case of meth mites and trying to google his tattoos to know if he was down with Snoop Dogg or Biggie for small talk. Ya know, keep it it real. He had just told me his mom was a WOHM who didn’t stay home with him when he had 2 weeks of bad viral pneumonia “because I was just sleeping.” Poor kid.

Anyways, my pager went off and it was a series of trophy emojis followed by 2 yoga pose emojis, as I instructed my husband to do for good news that made breaking a sterile field necessary.

I threw caution and hygiene out, and probably some Hep B onto, the procedure room phone and made the call.

My husband answered “diddly diddly do” in his best Ned Flanders voice and it was then that I knew, I really knew, that those Gymboree classes and breastfeeding equally on both sides for no more than 4 minutes, in addition to getting him a cell phone at exactly 13 years and 6 months had paid off.

Meth mites aren’t that big of a deal. Big 3 is.

[Anonymous]

I was jn the Italian Alps at a mindfulness retreat run by the monastic Order of St. Homobonous, patron saint of business people. The monastery was located in a tiny village, with no cellphone service and mail delivery only to the large market town 10km away. The Order had all taken a vow of silence. How to get our vital news?

Fortunately, as I was living in the moment, appreciating each breath, and focusing on the tiny jangling sounds of euros against Swiss francs in the pocket of my simple Angora robe, a St. Bernard loped into the room.Extending his front paw , he tapped out, in Morse code, "In at Sidwell and GDS". I smiled knowingly. Of course that was the answer. Had DC not been admitted, I would have felt a profound disturbance in the chi of the mountain.