It's 5am. I can hear Haley in the next room, "I want to see my Mommy." I don't blame her. I did a rotation in a hospital 50 miles away for 12 hours on Wednesday, then had school and work until 11pm on Thursday. I haven't gotten to see her much and I'm missing her and feeling guilty. We lounge around upstairs until 6am when she demands to go downstairs, "I want my cereal and banana, Mommy," she states. "And don't forget my pillow."
I stumble zombie like down the stairs, 40lb Haley in one arm and her pillow in the other. My day as concierge to a 3 year old has begun. I get her set up with her breakfast and start thinking about the 10am evaluation. What will it be like? I'd better keep prepping her.
Mom: Haley, what is your name?
Haley: Haley O-wee-wa (Olivia) Cah-tah (Ugh, the Boston accent!)
Mom: How old are you?
Haley: Free. Free and a half. (The speech therapist is going to have a field day)
Mom: Where do you live?
Haley: That's enough. I'm watching George.
Alright, I guess I'll move on to me. How can I show these people I am a good and competent mom? I am going to choose a serious outfit. This outfit will say, "I am mature. I encourage vegetable consumption." Well, I can tell my regular outfit staples are not going to do...
NO dinosaur shirts. NO skinny jeans. NO high heels. This is not a serious parent.
I barely own any 'nice' clothes. I really don't need them. I have one nicer pair of pants I wear with my lab coat when I'm picking up a patient assignment. I'd better dust those off. I'll pair them with a plain top. Throw on some sensible shoes. Ahhh, much better...
This outfit says, I would never drink Four Loko or get lubed up with cooking spray and go down a Slip n' Slide in front of strangers.
We're ready. I've managed to get Haley O. into an acceptable outfit as well.
Now we're at the school. There is another 'serious' Mom there. Her shoes are very sensible. I can tell this woman wouldn't know what Schweddy Balls were if it was to hit her in the face. Her son is perfectly still beside her chair as she fills out the paperwork. I sit to complete mine and Haley begins running in a circle. The secretary helps her pick out a book to read while we wait and Haley is now running in a circle while reading the book. "I'm three! My name is Haley," she shouts. Dammit, she's using up all her good answers! The behaviorist and speech therapist come out and introduce themselves to me and Other Serious Mom. They try to take Haley and Serious Boy back to the screening area. Haley cries and grabs my arm. They allow me to come back with her. Other Serious Mom shoots me a pitying look as Serious Boy happily breaks away from her (well, I would too, you no fun icy bitch!).
I squeeze into a little chair and keep my head down filling out forms as Haley works with the woman. Things seem to be going well. She's asking Haley what several objects are for.
Woman: Haley, what do you do with a book?
Haley: You read it.
W: What goes in a refrigerator?
H: A big doggie
W: (in a questioning tone) A big doggie??
H: Yes, like in Ghostbusters.
(For those of you who have spend the last 30 years in a cave or keeping your children away from age inappropriate content-Haley is talking about the scene where the giant gargoyle things wind up in the possessed refrigerator of Sigourney Weaver in Ghostbusters. Apparently Haley had seen more than just the Stay Puft marshmallow man scene.)
W: (laughing) Oh, like Ghostbusters...
I can tell by the sound of her voice she is glancing over at me, but I'm just face palming and trying to figure out what to do next. I figure when we leave there's going to be a 'To Catch a Predator' style sting where a guy in a gilly suit jumps out of the bushes and throws me in parent's jail while Haley is taken to live with some Prius driving, no television having family.
Haley and Serious Boy finish up their evaluations and we go back out front. The secretary hands me and Other Serious Mom the registration packets for preschool. "Once you bring these back with their immunization records and birth certificate, they can start school." "I brought hers with me, and I made some copies for you as well," I reply. "Oooh excellent!", she exclaims and shouts in to the principal's office, "This mom did her homework! She brought everything with her!" "We love that here!", replies the principal, "Haley may start on Monday." Oooh, great. Look at me. I give a little smile to Other Serious Mom. Take that! And with that, Haley decides to lift up my shirt and hide under it, shouting "I see your fishie!" Thanks to her, everyone else got to see my tattoo as well. All my new Serious Mom cred lost in a second.
Stay tuned to see if we can make the transition on Monday morning.
Posts
love it!
ReplyDelete