So, while other mommy bloggers post beautiful, professional-looking photos of their children that could occupy the pages of Pottery Barn Kids, I just post what’s real. This is my kid home from her first day of summer preschool. Her first ever class that isn’t “Mommy & Me.” She’s all on her own. And while I had no worries about how she would handle that, or if she would cry, I was worried about how her Daddy would handle getting her to her 9am, bi-weekly, hour-and-a-half-long Summer Fun Club. I told myself to have a little faith in my husband before going to bed late last night/early this morning after finishing up a project. After all, I’ve neatly folded and paired up all of her new summer preschool clothes I just bought and told him where to find them in her drawer. I gave him the name of the class, time, days, a map and directions. Still, I imagined all the possibilities of how this could turn out, and was glad I was going to be sleeping through it in the morning. At least that’s what I thought.
If only I had hung the car keys by the front door where they belong, Danny wouldn’t have had to wake me from my coma to ask where they were and I wouldn’t have noticed while looking for said keys that it was already 8:55am. Reagan’s preschool class is a 15-20 min. drive from our house. If only I had hung the car keys by the front door where they belong, I wouldn’t have noticed Reagan’s Flock of Seagulls hair and her… oh no! That’s what she’s wearing! Are those her only-wear-around-the-house and for-rolling-around-in-mud-like-a-piggie play clothes?! But, I did notice. I saw it all! “Alright Reagan, say good-bye to Mommy,” Danny said. And in the blink of an eye, she was headed towards the front door holding her Daddy’s hand. In my still groggy, state of shock, I froze up. Knowing she was late and that if I said anything about anything, I would be the one hauling her to class while still wiping the sleep from my eyes, nothing came out of my mouth but a hopeless “gufaww.” Mouth still open, I waved bye-bye to my Princess as she walked out into the cold without a jacket, excited as can be and looking like Nick Nolte meets Richard Simmons. If only I had hung the car keys by the front door where they belong, I would’ve slept right through all of this and never known the extent of my humiliation until I awoke refreshed and mentally prepared for it upon her return.
Rejoining slumberland proved futile at this point. I tried to push out of my mind the images of the other parents looking at my kid and instructing theirs’ to be nice to her, “she’s special.” I tried not to imagine the teacher’s reaction to her late arrival and appearance, “poor, neglected, little girl, I’ll have to be sure she gets some extra attention.” I told myself, no one is going to care, only YOU care! Just go back to sleep! But, it was useless. I called a friend to vent. That made it a little better, but I was still awake. Might as well get up now. The Type-A Mom in me just could not let go! I wish I could have Jennifer Gardner’s attitude about this, but that’s just not me. Hey, at least Ben Affleck makes an attempt with the two sad little barrettes in Violet’s hair!
By the time Reagan returned home with that big, goofy grin on her face, arms outstretched, running towards me for that I’m-so-happy-to-see-you hug, I was pretty much over it. Besides, now I knew what I was going to write about today! I’ll just be getting Reagan a long-overdue haircut tomorrow and lay out her clothes from now on.