I thought for a minute things were looking up. I thought for a minute my super mom skills were finally going to fix it all. I thought for a minute I could take a break from the screaming one year old with a snotty nose and watch five minutes of uninterrupted TV. I thought wrong because ten minutes into whatever show I was watching my daughter walked into our house with a strange woman. The woman, who was short with a sweatshirt, workout pants and whistle around her neck, stood on my porch almost refusing to come in. She had brown hair and small eyes that were sharper than a prison schenk. From outside, she watched me with icy judgment as my head spun round and round for answers. Wasn’t Taylor supposed to be at school? Who was this woman? Why had she brought Taylor home? Was Taylor sick? When I turned to my daughter with a lost look of confusion she simply said, “You were supposed to pick me up from basketball at 11:15 AM.” Horrified, I glanced at the clock right beside my door and saw that it was now 12:15 PM. I had left my child at the gym for an hour and now her coach, the angry woman on my front porch, had brought her home to find me sitting on the couch watching TV while a small toddler dashed in and out of the living room seemingly unsupervised.
“I just wanted to make sure somebody was here before I dropped Taylor off,” the woman said stringently. “I tried calling you 3 time, but it went to voicemail. The gym was closing and I couldn’t get a hold of anybody.” At this point, I too was wondering where the hell my phone was. Hadn’t I seen Samuel running around with it an hour or so ago? He couldn’t have gone far with it. He never did. When I said as much, the coach regarded me with disinterest, said goodbye to Taylor then left. My eyes were stinging with tears as I hurried around the house looking for my stupid cell. When I found it, I listened to each of the messages Taylor’s coach left. Every one sounded more clipped and more disgusted. Halfway through the second one, I was sobbing. I haven’t stopped since though I did pause to call her again. If I just explained better, maybe she’d see I wasn’t an awful horrible mom who would rather watch TV then parent. When she picked up the phone I said, “I’m so humiliated. Nothing like this has ever happened before. I found my phone. It was in the bathroom of all places. I’m so sorry and again thanks for bringing her home.” Her reply was as follows: “Yeah, well you may want to call your husband. I left him a message when we couldn’t get a hold of you. You should let him know she got home.”
My response could have been so many things, but what it ended up being was sad and pathetic. “Oh. Yeah. I’ll call him, but he won’t get that message until after five anyway.” HUH? Right there I should’ve gone off on her judgmental ass, but I felt so low, like I was the worst thing since the death penalty. When she hung up, without saying good-bye again, I should’ve got her message loud and clear. This woman hated me. She thought I was a shitty mother and no amount of explaining could change that, but I’m gluten for punishment, so I left her a voice mail some twenty minutes later.
“I wanted to call and tell you again how sorry and humiliated I am. I listened to your messages and I could tell you were, for lack of a better word, pissed off. I apologize for infringing on your time. Thanks so much for getting Taylor home. I’m going to be really honest, my son has been sick and teething for two weeks and I just sat down and totally forgot where Taylor was. When she walked in, I thought it was a school day so I was totally confused. Again, I am very sorry.” Naturally, I was crying at this point.
I haven’t heard back from her. I doubt I ever will. She obviously had her own things going today and I screwed them up. I’m trying to shake this feeling of utter despair, but I just can’t. Things at home have been so stressful. The baby is sick and almost always whining because of his teeth. Pain medication isn’t helping. Taylor is sick. Dave is never home and when he is it’s only for a few hours before he has to go to sleep. I’ve been working non stop to get the house ready for our xmass party on the 10th, but every mess I clean produces a new mess. Whenever I touch my phone, the battery dies. If I need to go anywhere, my truck is always out of gas. There’s been like nill time to write or read or even watch a 30 minute TV show. Relaxing of any kind just hasn’t been in the cards for me and you know what? Today it all caught up with me in one glorious eff up.
Pretty sure I’ve reached the lowest of the lows. Maybe things will start looking up…
Yeah right. Excuse me while I go back to sobbing now.