I left the house for work at 6:52 this morning. That might sound like a MIGHTY early hour to be doing ANYTHING, and I concur, it is. But I normally leave around 6:30. So as you might have deduced, this morning’s departure was a bit delayed.
Baby Girl and I rolled into daycare at 7:20, which is a solid twenty minutes later than we should have arrived. We walked up the front steps, opened the door, and–
“Is she all set to be Friend of the Week?” said Lovely Daycare Lady.
I stared at her.
“Did you bring her poster?”
A vague feeling of FAIL began to brew in the pit of my stomach.
See, our daycare does this really cute thing called Friend of the Week. Basically, each of the twelve kids gets one week to be special. (I mean, they’re always SPECIAL, but you know.) Their parents bring a poster about their family, they get to pick some of the activities, and a family member–usually Mom, Dad, or a grandparent–comes in to read a story for all the kids.
All of us parents got to pick our child’s week. And apparently, I picked this one.
Except that I thought I picked the LAST week of March. All month, I’ve had Friend of the Week lurking in the back of my brain, and I was planning to buy my posterboard over spring break (next week) and make the most KICKIN’ family poster EVAR.
Maybe there was gonna be confetti and glitter. Maybe my FOTW poster was gonna blow everybody else’s out of the WATER.
But instead of walking in with the Greatest Poster Of Our Time, I walked in with NO POSTER AT ALL.
And as soon as Lovely Daycare Lady said, “Did you bring her poster?” my mind went to these places (please prepare for a glimpse into the blackness of my heart):
How could I have forgotten about this? I am the worst mom ever. Why can’t I keep up with anything? Why am I so disorganized?
And from there, I went here:
It’s because our weekend was so crazy. If Baby Girl hadn’t come down with an ear infection, and if we hadn’t had to take her to the doctor, and if her colon hadn’t gotten so backed up that she started shaking from the pain, and if we hadn’t had to figure out how to give her a suppository to fix the problem, I would have had time to think about making her poster.
Which led to:
You know, if I didn’t have so much on my plate, I would have remembered. If I didn’t have to work all day AND do all the normal mom stuff, I would be better at this. It’s not fair. I have too much going on. Nevermind that all the other moms at daycare are in the same boat; I’M DIFFERENT.
Defensive, are we?
Luckily, our Friend of the Week was rescheduled to the last week of March and Baby Girl is none the wiser. In fact, she couldn’t care less. She is 15 months old and doesn’t even know what Friend of the Week is. She’s not capable of deciding what activities they do.
It doesn’t matter. It’s not a big deal.
But y’all, I spiraled into a vortex of cray-cray faster than you can say SOMEBODY GET THE STRAIGHT JACKET.
What’s been your biggest Crazy Mom Fail moment? Anyone willing to commiserate?