It all started out so innocently.
All I had to do was get the 2-year-old to his first day of preschool with a 2-week-old infant in tow. I’m a bachelor’s educated RN with many years of ICU experience. I’ve managed patient flow. I’ve run ICU codes. A 2-year-old and an infant? Pfft. Easy peasy.
What they don’t tell you in pre-mommy classes is that trying to get two small children out the door is like herding wet cats during a snowstorm. To get to preschool by 9:15 a.m., the process has to start at approximately 5:15 a.m. Don’t believe me? Turn to the mom sitting next to you and ask. She’ll tell you. Or better yet? Call you own mother. She’ll be glad to enlighten you. Anyhoo, I digress…
I was almost arrested at preschool. Sort of.
When my daughter arrived in 2005, I had been a stay-at-home mom for 2 1/2 years. I had gone through the adjustment of giving up my salary and coworkers for the joys of rice cereal and talking to a person under three feet tall ALL. DAY. LONG. My son and I had come to a nice routine and I mistakenly thought the addition of a second little bundle of joy would go smoothly… yes, I heard you snicker.
On the day in question, I dutifully started the “Exit Strategy Process” at 5:15. The fact that I managed a shower amidst the insanity of breast feeding, diaper changes, breakfast and Sesame Street was nothing short of amazing. By 8:40, everyone was fed, dressed in matching clothes and in reasonably good spirits.
And then I smelled it. You know. “The smell” that eminates from a toddler who isn’t potty trained yet. “The smell” that usually happens exactly 30 seconds before you are leaving. “The smell” that reminds you that your morning isn’t going to go as planned.
Cue the diaper change.
During said diaper change, I had to contend with a wicked, wicked case of diaper rash. Awesome. Diaper changes were usually quick and painless but, of course, not today. After much cajoling, begging, loud whisper talking through “asshole lips” and general demanding, it was Toddler 1, Mommy 0 with T-minus 15 minutes until the start of preschool.
And so, I did it.
I resorted to bribery.
While it is usually my general policy to not negotiate with toddlers or terrorists, I decided to do it just this once. In exchange for a scream free diaper change, he would get a lollipop on the way to preschool.
You scratch my back, I’ll change your diaper. You get the picture.
And so, off to preschool we went, freshly diapered and lollipop unwrapped in the 2-year-old’s hands. We arrive at preschool at precisely 9:15 and 30 seconds and in we go to meet the director. As we walk into the director’s office, Fruit Loop #1 promptly announces, “Hi Nice Lady! My mommy hurt my hiney and she say so sorry and she gave me a lollipop.”
Oh. No. He. Didn’t.
Sigh. He totally did.
Did I mention this was our very first day at the preschool? In the absence of a rock to climb under, I quickly spilled out an explanation. I’m pretty sure I looked deranged as I spewed verbal diarrhea (pun intended) to quickly explain that I had not hurt my child and that I merely bribed him. Bribing is OK, right? I can honestly say I’ve never been more embarrassed in all my life. Well, up to that point…
Thankfully, the director was kind, understanding and did her best to not laugh out loud at me. She accepted my explanation, assured me that I would be at the mercy of my children and their mouths for the rest of my life and that every mother has a similar story to tell. And, as I watched her take his willing hand and walk him to his new class, it was not lost on me that I had raised a little boy who didn’t need a bribe to go off on a new adventure.
8 Responses
Remember when we were so excited because they learned to talk? Sigh.
Ha!! Yes. Yes, I do.
A sheriff deputy that I knew years ago had a similar but worse experience. His daughter told the kindergarten teacher “daddy beats me up” at orientation, what really happens is that they would wrestle and play around. Due to his job, they had to go therapy to make sure!!!
Just last month my son was with his dad and step mom and he was supposed to go to Judo that evening however his step mom decided to skip Judo and take him roller skating instead. 10 mins into it my son fell and after examination at the hospital it was determined that he broke his arm. Since then everywhere we go people ask him what happened and he says just as normal as ever. ” My step mom did it”. I always have to jump in and explain what really happened. I tell him he cannot say that, someone may believe that. He’s 12 and just being a smartass, lol
BAH-HAHAHAHA!! Nice one…
My son, at 5, came to me with a bandaid on his hand. (he was in the bandaid stage, so no big deal, right?)
Me: “What happened, Buddy?”
Him: “I got a paper cut. I took care of it.”
Me: “Ok. Bus will be here in 10 minutes. Better get going.”
He goes off to school, everything’s fine.
Until that evening when he gets off the bus with his hand wrapped up like a mummy’s. O_o
I asked him, and he says Mrs. Feather (nurse) wrapped his “papercut” for him.
I call the school wondering wth happened to my precious angel.
Get the nurse on the phone and discover the paper cut story fell apart when he used the toilet and washed his hands- the bandaid fell off, and his teacher discovered he had cut almost 1/2 inch into the webbing between his thumb and index finger. She asked him how, and he finally broke down and confessed he’d been using a kitchen cleaver to cut up an apple for his snack.
(I nearly fainted at this point.)
The nurse explained that “it really should’ve been stitched, but it’s too late for that now, so just keep it clean and covered. He’ll just have a little scar.”
Thank god, Mrs. Feather attends our church and has known my family since my kids were tots in the toddler room on Sunday morning. She was (is) fully aware of the size handful my son was (is!), and knew that his injury was not a result of abuse or neglect.
Ten years later, I can almost laugh about it, but I can’t call the white streaks in my hair “wisdom highlights” anymore. I’m just going white from getting this kid to adolescence.
“Stayin’ Alive” is the theme song of my life. :-/
Lol my son told his K teacher that I beat him up almost every night! Thank God She asked me about it cuse I do beat him up. I beat him up the stairs to bed every night when we race up to bed!
When my now 23 year old was in pre-k, I received a call from her teacher requesting a home visit. Apparently, the kids had been learning about drugs, and my then 4 year old spilled the beans to her whole class that mommy and daddy did drugs at home. During the visit, the teacher explained that she was required to check that out. When the teacher told us at the end of her visit that she didn’t see any evidence to back up my daughter’s statement, my daughter piped up, “But Mommy, nicotine is a drug”. Guess so, at that time my husband and I were both smokers. Good thing the teacher and we became good friends after that, as my next child had her two years later!
The day my daughter went to preschool and told her teacher, “I wanted to watch Lion King, but mommy and daddy were watching adult movies.”….. I swear they didn’t believe me when I told them I just meant it wasn’t a movie for kids…. She’s 15 now!