Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Yep...Here We Are Again!

Once again, my husband has gone off to present at a conference, this time in Shanghai. He will be gone for almost a week, otherwise known as a month in The Land of Outnumbered Parents.

I got a head start on being Extra, Extra Organized, which is the mode that I must go into whenever Jabiz leaves town. So, on Sunday, I ironed and hung up in my closet complete outfits for the week, coupled with matching accessories.

I was clearly not thinking ahead, though, as I planned to wear white pants today. Why wouldn't I wear white pants? I wear white pants almost everyday! Well, it turns out the reason NOT to wear white pants this week is that I have to take the kids to class alone, so when Skye wants to be picked up and carried, I'm the only one to do it.

Needless to say, within a matter of exactly 47 seconds, the ironed, put-together and matching outfit that had looked so fresh and crisp on me a mere 30 minutes earlier was now sporting two toddler-sized shoe prints on each thigh, as well as about three dozen wrinkles in my linen top from carrying all of the school and lunch bags in addition to Skye.

Fresh and crisp? Not so much anymore. More like wilting and raggedy. Fortunately, only about 400 people were going to be seeing me all day, so....there's that.

Hold on for a second while I go and switch all the pants on the remaining hangers with black pairs...OK.

Not that anyone noticed in the slightest what I was wearing, since they were too distracted by Skye's phenomenal tantrum that was thrown on the playground when I committed the unthinkable sin of *gasp* trying to PUSH HER ON THE SWING! Apparently, the swing was too low to the ground, which resulted in her having to *gasp again* HOLD HER FEET UP while swinging.

This was absolutely unacceptable to Skye. And she was going to let everyone know that. Every. Last. Person.

There really is nothing that gives you more of a sense of dignity and pride than carrying your screaming child to the Time Out corner while you are AT YOUR JOB. This is seriously one of the downsides of teaching in the same school that your children attend. It's usually an ideal situation. When they are good, anyway. When they do cute things, like sing in assemblies and run around in their tutus for their after-school ballet classes. THEN everyone tells you how adorable your children are.

When they are in the throes of a wretched, sense-deadening tantrum? There are only quiet stares and soft, sympathetic noises.

Anyway, the tantrum ended. Eventually. And we could begin our day.

Kaia had her first soccer practice today, and I promised her that I would cut short my afterschool meeting in order to have time to watch the second half of practice. Needless to say, I ended my meeting at exactly 3:30, grabbed my camera and sprinted over the the elementary gym.

Just in time  to see her wipe out when she tripped over the ball while running too quickly and began sobbing uncontrollably. I saw the coach making sure that nothing was broken or sprained, and was inclined to give her a few minutes to see if she would shake it off and keep going with the practice.

However, this apparently was NOT the course of action that the other mothers would have taken, because the looks that they gave me sent me slinking in shame into the gym. Where I wiped off the tears and fell straight into the trap of 5-year-old manipulation when Kaia shakily asked me if she could get ice cream on the way home.

Obviously, I said yes. Because I'm NOT a monster. Do you hear that, Other Mothers? NOT A MONSTER!

Skyelar decided to continue her screaming tantrum of death the second the door shut behind the nanny on her way out. I'm still unclear of exactly what the hell happened, but from what I can decipher, Skye did not want milk in the pink cup. Or she did. I have no effing idea, all I know is that everything I did was met with a response in the form of a high-pitched shriek  and a full-body shake. Which was sometimes accompanied by the throwing of her entire body onto the ground.

Which was, of course, the perfect time for a Skype call with Jabiz, during which he gave us a virtual tour of the 2-room suite in which he was put up. Yes, TWO ROOM SUITE. Fortunately, the internet cut out during the tour of the Awesome, Awesome Bathroom Complete With Walk-in Closet, or I may have gone into his closet and started cutting one leg shorter than the other on all of his pants.

Mercifully, the aforementioned events of the day culminated with a quick and easy bedtime, and by 7:30 I was staring at the ceiling and trying to forget that I have ears.

OK, so Day One is down, only five more to go...


  1. Haha...I enjoyed that read, Mairin :) I too have suffered the curse of the toddler footprint. Why can't that happen, I dunno, at 7:30 pm rather than 7:30 am?

  2. Exactly Jeff- why first thing in the morning? I used to try and save water whenever I could by not washing my clothes every single time I wore them, but only when they were actually DIRTY. Since we've had the girls, I've had to repress the guilt that I feel about the gallons and gallons (and gallons) of water we use every week to wash the toddler footprints and oatmeal-y handprints off!

  3. Sounds like time for revenge, maybe you should get to do the next conference presentation and have Jabiz stay home :)

  4. That is funny, because I was just having the EXACT same thoughts last night! I think I need some serious PD this year...