Holy Mother of Christian Pre-School

We took Brooke for her first day. She was a bit cranky from being woken up at 815am, she was bossy, not cooperating with getting her hair combed, refusing breakfast, and whining while getting dressed. I, of course, forgot to buy the gallon ziploc that I must label and insert her drink box and snack each day. I even forgot the drink box and snack and had to make an emergency trip to the store. I'm all organized like that. I forgot to get the regular-sized bookbag and sent her with a half sized one. The other kids were all proudly sporting their backpacks that started at the top of their heads and ended at the back of their knees....note to self, get with it!!

So. we take her in and I am not feeling anything too emotional during the traffic jam walk down the stairs, nor the jammed up hallway or classroom. I direct her to an empty seat and BAM, choked up with tears, totally freakin' can't stop 'em tears are getting ready to explode from my eyes!! But, no!! She cannot see this, I must make a fast exit. Bob is already sensing it and places his hand on my back, gently pushing me, then aggressively urging me out the door. I make my escape without completely making a fool of myself and instead do that in the parking lot while other people are passing me to drop of their children. It doesn't help that I am in my giant t-shirt, grey sweats, period outfit, especially when Bob informs me of a spot of blood on the back of me. It becomes more clear to me everyday that my childhood, the one where proper people raised me to have some class was all in my imagination and I was truly raised by cave people. The uncombed, crazy, bedhead hair only further confirms it.

The two and a half hours passed by slowly today and we left ten minutes early to pick her up to find children starting to exit. We walked up to the door and some parents in front of us where greeted by their waiting three year old with hugs and a giant smile of relief, like "Yay!! Mommy and Daddy!!". Brooke sees us and backs up the stairs, as though her torturers have found her once again and OMG NOOOOOO!! She says, "I stay at school!". The teacher's jaw drops, Bob and I share a panicked look cause we so know that a graceful exit is not gonna happen and this will involve a forceful carry out of the fitting toddler. We were so right and the fit continues for a block til we reach the car where she lay on the sidewalk begging us to go home so she can go back to school. Parents pass, surely making judgements about why a child is so reluctant to leave with her parents and I fear the state will be at the door soon. I shake in horror thinking about Friday at 1125am.

W get in the car and I ask, "Why do we have such weird offspring?". He shrugs as we compare the 2 each we had from previous marriages and how they were so normal and these two we created are so bad for our parent rep. We should be seasoned pros, when did we lose control? It sucks to retire on a losing season.

Speaking of which, my dad calls all pissed about Ryan's lack of playing time and insists he must be released, he is calling the coach right NOW cause he is all spazzy like that. He practically hangs up on me, Bob hurries to call back to talk him out of it, I call Ryan to warn him and Ryan is laughing so hard he can hardly respond. This immediately puts me at ease and all is well on that front...Dad did not quit for Ryan.

The little four year old that comes daily and eats all our food is asking for some food right now and her striking resemblence to Bob's ex-wife is starting to give me nightmares. They have the exact same face..EXACT!! What are the odds?? I find it hard to look at her because it starts making me feel like I am in some unreal dimension where adult faces are on toddler-like bodies and it is some freakish invasion. If a toddler Aunt Dee Dee shows up, I am so outta here!