WHAT A CRAPPY DAY!
So, instead of being at home, fixing hair into pretty braids and curls in anticipation of a new, a first day, of school, I was at the gym filling out a police report; hurriedly stuffing my blow dryer into my overfilled backpack, and frantically calling home to get all the plastic in my wallet canceled. Instead of encouraging little hearts and minds with wisdom and motherly kindness, I was thinking about guillotines, firing squads, and brimstone raining down from heaven.
WHAT A CRAPPY DAY!
So I'm flustered, and my hair's a bit more wild than I'd intended, and off we race to school, piling 7 people into 5 seats of the work truck, since I can't drive the SUV with the glass everywhere. And what's the very first thing I get to do at the school? I get to have a meeting with the principal. Dressed for success, I hold my head high, straighten my back, and walk with a confidence I've taught myself to have. I listen to her spiel on what her school's about and think to myself that she must intimidate several homeschoolers who walk in her doors and hand over their children.
I try to sound coherent, even intelligent, as I discuss what I've taught my children. She looks at me with a polite smile and I envision her thinking, "You're not worthy to teach your children, that's a job for us professionals. What a joke you are! See my office, see my degrees? And now, I'll take your children and turn them into real students." She promptly tests my children and in a very unobtrusive way, lets me know that her school is a "safe place," but that my children just might hear or be exposed to "certain things and language" while on the playground. As she pauses, I step in and say, "I do understand what your saying, Mrs._________, and please be assured that though I do believe it is a parental right and duty to shelter and protect one's children while tenderly shaping their character, I also think that if we do not allow them to experience the real world, perhaps in form of a playground, that we offer them no real training for their futures." What does she think I am, a homeschooler?
WHAT A CRAPPY DAY!
I'm tired. I've been through the emotional ringer one too many times now. And I haven't even gotten one lick of house work done. I don't have any cookies baked, as was the plan for the post First Day of School event that I had envisioned in my perfect little world. The kids come home to a clean home with oatmeal chocolate chip cookies wafting through the air as they warm themselves in front of the fire and sip cocoa while telling me all the adventures of their day. Instead it's more like, "Umm, here's half a cracker and some moldy cheese. Want some nasty tap water in a dirty cup?"
BLUH! WHAT A CRAPPY DAY!
So, let's kick it into gear, shall we. I've been running on empty long enough, I know how to make things happen when I don't have the energy to make things happen!
What's this? What's this I say? I just got some flowers delivered to me. Who could they be from? What a surprise! Oh, look, they're from my brother. My brother in Sweden, nonetheless. And look, what a sweet note. One of the sweetest notes I've ever gotten: "Sorry you had a sucky day. Hope you feel better." Now that, that was a thing of beauty. Thank you brother. And the flowers are beautiful. And fragrant. What's this? I find a smile creeping onto my face...
I can no longer say, "WHAT A CRAPPY DAY."
Thank you.
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