I always feel like somebody's watching me.

Monday, April 11, 2011

And the Award Goes To...

Before I give my acceptance speech, I feel the need to explain myself. I didn't even think about the fact that it was Monday today because the weekend was so full of craziness, I just went with the flow. And really, it started off okay in the beginning, it really did. I faced my weekly grocery shopping trip with bravery and gusto and I wasn't even ashamed to be seen in public with my youngest child and her fashion sense(less). The two of us set off in search of household sundries and grocery items with hope in our hearts and reusable bags in our hands. Then it hit me. Somewhere between my house and Target it dawned on me that I had forgotten to send 12 plastic eggs and 3 dimes to school with my kindergartner.

"Mommy, we can't forget to get my eggs and my dimes for school for our project. Jesus was sold for 30 pieces of silver's why we have to bring 3 dimes and I don't know what the eggs are for but we have to put the dimes into one of them." She had reminded me on Saturday morning as we headed out of town for the weekend. I promised her we would stop and get the eggs on the way back into town. I forgot.

I started bawling upon realizing my neglect and suddenly it occurred to me that I AM THE WORST MOMMY EVER. I have never been up for such a big award! This would have to put me into the front running! I pictured my springy haired 5 year old at school, having a melt down of epic proportions and her teacher, shaking her head and tsking, marking my name off on her voting ballot.

My mood went from slightly positive to ginormously negative in 0.2 seconds. But by some miracle the tiny 'raptor and I managed to get the shopping done without any major breakdowns or blowups and we went to get the other minions from school.

My kindergartner came running out and greeted me with a giant hug. I could feel the tears welling up again. I fought them back and profusely apologized for my forgetfulness. I was forgiven and kissed and we stood in wait for the eldest raptor. And we waited. And waited. My stomach began to knot up and I could feel the tickling in my sinuses that usually precedes a tearful explosion. The 5th graders had gone to another school for band practice...was I supposed to have picked her up at that school? OH I HAVE THIS AWARD IN THE BAG NOW!!! Another mother came up beside me and asked how I was. Well...since you asked....But she was my saving grace! She knew the 5th graders had come back already. Turned out my 5th grader has classroom duty this week. Phew. Crisis averted, children gathered and off to the van we went.

We were blessed this year with the purchase of a new used Toyota Sienna minivan with automatic sliding doors. The children delight in "pushing the button" to close their doors when they get in or out. Yay for all things mechanical! In my haste to get the kids buckled in and groceries home, I failed to notice that the youngest raptor had pushed her button and suddenly I was being shoved over by an automatic sliding door, slowly squeezed to certain flatness. I flailed around and pressed the button again, releasing the door's hold on my midsection. This is where I cinched up my title as "Worst Mommy Ever". I unleashed a tirade on the poor four year old, chewing her out for nearly crushing me. She, in turn, let loose a scream that only dogs could hear. Well, dogs and apparently the two teachers getting into their vehicle next to ours. I saw them get out their ballots and cast their votes just as I was pulling out of the parking lot.

So, without further ado, I would like to thank The Academy, without which this award would not be possible. I would like to thank the 'raptors, for without them I would not be a mommy and lastly I would like to thank my failing brain and apparent PMS for allowing the final breakdown that put this award in my hands. Thank you! Thank you all!

5 comments:

  1. Haha, this is the 3rd post today I have read where someone has referenced being on PMS. Everyone must be on similar cycles. :)

    So what are you awarded with? A trophy? A medal?

    ReplyDelete
  2. PMS? Oooh, I like that. I could use it for my excuse too.

    Joyce
    http://joycelansky.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
  3. I big fat kick in the pants, that's what the award is. Actually, I envision this award to be a trophy in the shape of a dirty diaper or some other heart-warming symbol.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Any ballots left?
    :D

    Damn, I remember the days when my son was young. I have a full head of gray hair because of him.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I see your son and I raise you three daughters. Guess who's getting cancer from hair dye!

    ReplyDelete