Up early this morning, rousting two sleepy protesting whining burrowing-under-the-covers children up! and at-em! and tossing on an outfit myself - do I match? Do I ever match? - and coffee slurped with the quick run down of our respective days and then bundle, bundle, who's got your coat and where is your backpack out the door and go!
Fluoride treatment given at my son's school, set up the trays, take the trays down, watch twenty kids at a time swish swish swish and spit (did anyone swallow? No? Good...) R helping out by carrying Kleenex and wiping down the trays then wham back in the car and speed for town - your turn to be left at school, then your Mom has to go to work.....
and a full stop when she says plaintively, face half-buried in the remains of what used to be her baby blanket, thumb hovering dangerously near her mouth But I don't wanna go to school today, Mama.
Why?
Jus' don't wanna. Don't like school today.
Gave the usual pep-talk - You love school! You do! It's fun! And....Mama's going to work! So...let's go!
She pouted a bit, but unbuckled herself and followed me in, her Chicago Bulls cap bobbing along over the ruffled pink and white lining of her denim jacket (my girl is a study in contrasts) sat on the bench to exchange shoes for slippers, hung her coat and bookbag on her hook. Then she hung back for a minute in the hall, sending me one more hopefully beseeching look before giving me a hug goodbye. I opened the half-door to her room, exchanged pleasentries with one of her teachers, and was leaing down for a quick kiss when (right in my ear) the little boy who Rosey has happily shared tricycles carrot sticks and Legos with for the last few weeks said loudly, frowning at my daughter
'I don't want to play with you anymore.'
And R stared, struck dumb, and her face crumpled a bit and she looked at me but I was in full gotta-leave mode and her teacher swooped in, grabbing up my sad, sad daughter and twinkling at me that she would work this out and I went out into the hall and out the front door and paused on the front porch
and thought about what a jerk I am.
And how small she may be but how her feelings aren't and how I should never put a paycheck and being on time in front of my daughter's emotions.
(And briefly about how I'd like to put my foot into the seat of that boy's jeans)
And I turned and went back and stepped up to the door but it was circle time and I don't know how it ended.
Sometimes I just don't think.
12 comments:
No worries, been there and it's not fun. But don't beat yourself up too much. She'll probably have forgotten it by lunch time.
I do agree with you that we sometimes need to sit down and evaluate our priorities. Kids do grow up fast. I know, I have three teenagers and it seemed just like yesterday I was running around the yard with them...
Gah...Tell me about it. Watching them experience their first rejections is tough.
My daughter is 3 and has a little best friend in nursery school who she likes to give little "gifts" (an m&m, a sticker, etc.). Yesterday we arrived at school and she gave N a sticker who brushed her off and ran the other way.
Wanted to make it all right.
I hate how mean kids can be to each other. An almost daily lament of mine is how I wish I could seal my kiddos up in a hamster ball and protect them forever. I hope little Rosey is ok.
The preschool teacher handled it beautifully, I would imagine.
I volunteered in Julia's classroom this morning and at one point her teacher looked over at me and said, quietly, "Kids are so mean to each other. Really, really mean."
She's right. It's a rite of passage, something that inevitably will happen - but that doesn't mean it's not hard to see in action sometimes. Especially when it's your kid.
Oh, poor Rosey-girl. I hope her day improved after that. :-( Sometimes it's tough figuring out these calls when you're a mom. You'll do it better next time. I know I've got many of these moments ahead of me.
It hurts, doesn't it, when they can't be our priorities. That's when life sucks about the most. You're good though. You're probably making her laugh right this minute and hugging her up.
Fuck.
I hate those moments.
Oh, I hear you. The assemblies I missed, the "Mommy, don't go to work.", the camping trips we skipped.
Money is tighter than I humanly thought possible, but the kids are enjoying me being home. It has to end, though.
No matter what we do, there is going to be something to make us feel guilty as parents. This is one where you can have some bedtime conversation. Perhaps a "I can't always do what you want when you want, but tell you what? Tell me what you'd like to do on my day off."
Oh, poor Rosey. I know the guilt and it sucks and I'm sorry that you're feeling it right now. I hope that both of you are OK tonight....
Oh I'm sorry. That just sucks. Kids ARE mean.
Aw, Jess - These things are so hard! But you were right to leave her with the teacher who could sort it out and make it right. You were letting Rosie know that you had faith in her teacher and in her, too - you knew she could work this out.
When I try to fix things like this for the boys, it backfires. When the teacher takes things in hand, it gets sorted out in 3 minutes. And forgotten.
But YES it is hard!
and YAHOO about the election! We are ALL hopeful.
Post a Comment