Thursday, September 30, 2010

Oh Mommy

It is Wednesday night. The evening of the Student of the Day fiasco. Mommy is in the basement. She has been down there for quite a while and Daddy comes to check on her. She is crying.

Daddy: (A little alarmed that she is down in the basement crying alone) "What's wrong! Why are you crying?"

Mommy: (She looks at Daddy and that just makes her cry a little more) "I can't believe I totally screwed up on Bean's first time as Student of the Day. I just feel so bad. This was it. My first shot at being a good Mommy for Bean as he is out in the world and I completely and totally messed it up. I know it isn't the end of the world or anything, but it was a really big deal to me. This is my job. This is what I am supposed to do. I am going to get a really, really bad performance review this year and I don't deserve a raise."

Mommy is now mostly feeling bad that she got caught being so upset about this whole student of the day ridiculousness.

Daddy: (He is a little unsure how to handle this. His wife is usually a stiff upper lip sort of woman, but these children are turning her into a big blubbering mess) "Honey, I know you are sad but he probably won't even remember."

Mommy and Daddy look at each other and they both know that Daddy is being far too optimistic. Of course Bean will remember. He remembers everything. He was 18 months old when they took him to swimming lessons at the school down the street and he still talks about how cold the water was every time they pass it. He remembers the toy that he got when he went to the dentist with Mommom when he was 22 months. They both know perfectly well that this is something he will remember and remember and remember. Daddy is starting to look a little sad now.

Mommy: "Why are you looking sad? You just said it was going to be OK."

Daddy: "I know but, well, it is kinda sad. He was so excited about it."

Mommy starts to cry again.

Mommy: "I can just hear my parents now. My Mom is saying 'that's why you need to write things down' and my Dad is saying 'got to organize'. I totally pulled an Alli on this and I feel awful. It's just like that time I wrote down the wrong information about the SAT location and went to the wrong place to take the test. No wonder I never feel like a grown up. Seriously, why did anyone even let me have children in the first place. I'm not responsible enough. I can't even remember where I'm supposed to go to take the SAT's."

Daddy is getting a little worried. Mommy is starting to sound slightly irrational at this point. Plus, he knows that when Mommy starts talking about hearing her parents voices in her head, it is a good time to run the other way.

Daddy: "Look, he was happy. He got to use the special pointer. He doesn't even really get that you forgot."

Again they look at each other, knowing this is not true. Bean gets that Mommy forgot and they both know that a year from now, when they think the whole thing is forgotten, he is going to mention and put Mommy in a tailspin all over again.

Mommy: "This is it. This is the moment. I can see him 30 years from now, sitting in the therapist's chair, remembering this as the moment he realized his mother was a disaster."

Daddy: "It's good for him. He needs to learn that the world isn't a perfect place."

Mommy: "Yes, but he is supposed to learn that from someone at school or a mean teacher or something. Not from his own mother." (More crying ensues.)

Daddy: "Well, there is nothing to do. He got to use the special pointer. That's really all he cared about anyway. And he had Cozy to show and tell everyone. So really it turned out OK."

Mommy: (Trying to rally herself because it is close to bedtime and she doesn't want puffy eyes in the morning) "Yeah, he was really excited about the pointer. He was smiling about it all morning."

Daddy: "See, he will be fine. I think. And look on the bright side, maybe by the time this comes up in therapy we will both be dead."

Mommy: "That's true. Maybe he won't remember this until I'm dead. Oddly enough, that makes me feel a little better."

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