Make room on the mantle for another Bad Mom Award. I sent my oldest off to camp and failed to make arrangements for his safe return. Yes, it’s true.
I did know one of two people would deliver him from camp to town. I did not know which person would do it and where they would leave him. To be fair, neither person would ever abandon him on the side of the road. My dilemma today was having one child with fever, one child with bug bites the size of oreos, and one child needing to be picked up at camp 40 minutes away. Oh, and not to forget the one being delivered at the same time. Delivered somewhere, I just wasn’t sure where.
I did have one cell phone number. In a karmic event I called and called that number about 5 times during the drive to pick up child #3. Rang but no answer. Anxiety. Now usually I am a logical woman. They won’t leave him. He’ll be fine. They’ll call the house and bring him home. Unfortunately, I am either having PMS or am pregnant again (which BTW CAN’T happen anymore). I’ve been weepy all day. I’ve also had that feeling of dread and anxiety – a weight on my chest. (okay, stop with the dirty thoughts already)
Finally, got a hold of the person with the cell phone. Yes, she had him. Yes, she was planning on bringing him to the house. Relax. It’s fine. There was no cell reception at camp.
You’d think I’d be feeling better. Not so. Something seems to be in the air and I’m not sure what. I’m suppose to be leaving tomorrow for my big weekend but I’m not packed, not mentally ready and still don’t even know what time I am leaving. I don’t even know who will watch the kids.
All I know is the kids kicked me off the computer all day, the bitten child has a Dr.’s appointment at 9:30 am, the fevered one should probably have an appointment, the drama king has a performance at 11:30 am (which I will have to find streetside parking downtown in the city) and the camp returnee has notified me that I am “the worst mother in the world” while in hysterical tears.
Requirements for being the
Worst Mother in the World:
- no video games in house
- set your nine year old’s bedtime yourself
- limit the friends they have over so you can retain your sanity
- All-in-all, make sure he is not even a little bit like his friends (becasue of 1-3)
Now I’m guessing it’s exhaustion that is prompting the outburst. The problem with that is the solution is to get him to bed early which then means he doesn’t get to go to Grammy’s to play video games, stay up late or have a friend over.
The one part I still haven’t told you all? Last night I had a dream I was pregnant. Not only scary but impossible. Scary because I’ve only had pregnant dreams right before I found out I was pregnant. Impossible because I have been surgically “fixed”.