School doesn’t begin again for a few weeks. But you wouldn’t know it looking at my phone. These days, returning to the classroom seems to involve more homework for parents than for students.

Weeks before my child has been assigned a teacher or seen a syllabus, we’re fielding an invite for a weekend kindergarten campout. We’re buying new school shoes and uniforms. Signing up for piano, dance and baseball. And don’t forget end-of-summer grade-level parties. And new class welcome parties. And the evening events for parents. I’m sure my children will easily start waking up at 6:45 a.m. again.

Is anyone else ready to cry uncle? No? Everyone else is doing OK?

Me too, of course.

Don’t get me wrong. The rhythm of the school year promises a structure and a schedule that I cherish and miss in the chaos of summer. It brings friends and community back together after summer’s separate ways.

But the transition brings its share of stress, too.

Wondering if this is just American madness, I asked my new British friends if they find parenting and school schedules this intense. I was both frustrated and relieved to hear them say, “Yes.”

They too have Pajama Day and Crazy Socks Day. They too face homework projects that consume much more parental time than that of the student — printing off ancient photos to help a kindergartener make an elaborate family tree. They too have wine moms (“mums”?) and midcareer mothers trying to juggle corporate travel and school snacks.

In other words, there’s no escaping the hustle that’s modern parenting.

It has me wishing two things. First, I desperately wish we could call a collective truce and agree that less is more. Enough of the arms race of parties, and get-togethers, and “fun” activities that involve the parents as much as the children. I love my children, really I do. But when they’re at school, can they be at school without parental involvement, save for a spring recital?

Second, if we’re going to put this much energy into school, might we instead put it into academic rigor? Over the years, very little of the parental stress I’ve experienced around the return to school is about academics. And I’m not saying this because my children are acing every class.

In my experience, much of the school hustle isn’t about learning. It’s more about logistics — school events, coordinating schedules, social obligations, and figuring out how, amidst it all, the children will get carted to and fro.

Meanwhile, math levels have dropped to a near two-decade low. Reading levels have fallen back to 1992 levels, according to the National Assessment of Educational Progress, widely called “the nation’s report card.”

I’d trade Spirit Week for more time spent reading full books, more spelling bees and math drills, and earlier language immersion.

After all, that’s what school is for: children’s education. When did it start feeling like it’s more about project management for the parents?

I can’t remember my own parents setting foot on school grounds for anything other than a spring concert or an open house. They didn’t manage group texts, sign up for weekend campouts, or go to school auctions. They didn’t need to monitor homework — first and foremost because it wasn’t on a screen connected to the internet so we could do it alone in our rooms. No wonder that, according to the Pew Research Center, 62% of parents believe that parenting is more difficult than they thought it would be.

Perhaps, 11 years into my parenting journey, I’ve developed a case of senioritis. I am forever grateful to our dear school and the brave souls who volunteered as this year’s room reps. I know I should probably buy classroom birthday gifts in bulk to keep in a closet like I keep meaning to. Because when just about every child in the grade is going to have a birthday party and invite the entire class, and you have three kids, that’s at least 75 parties. Add that to the back-to-school prep list, which already runs the average American family about $900.

As a student, I always loved an honors program. But as a mother? Please, I’ll take a pass on the extra homework.

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This column reflects the personal views of the author and does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.

Abby McCloskey is a columnist, podcast host, and consultant. She directed domestic policy on two presidential campaigns and was director of economic policy at the American Enterprise Institute.

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