I was the last parent to pick up my child from preschool. Mind you, I was not late. The last of the children (besides the daughter) was just making her way down out the door as I arrived.
The daughter had hidden so well and so carefully in her cubby that the teacher didn't notice she was there. Until she starting crying when everyone else was gone. That's when I walked in.
One of those mother-of-the-year moments. I felt like a felon. A neglectful parent. A potential threat to children everywhere. Because I was the last parent. Perhaps this was an overreaction.
If she had not been hiding in the cubby, she would have been given a special job by the teacher and everything would have been fine. But she likes to jump out and scare me when I come to pick her up.
This must have been the day that I took the daughter to the playground right by the school bus stop. I felt totally lame sitting on a park bench in the shade while my daughter ran around on the playground equipment.
But then I didn't feel lame because she found a little person to play with and they figured out which things needed two people (like the teetery-tottery-like-thing) and helped each other out.
I was super exhausted after this and rested. I had made pizza dough, but I was too tired to even think about making pizza. In fact I was sound asleep while the pizza making happened.
Grateful Crap: public parks and warm autumn weather
took meds - 150mg venlafaxine, 450mg bupropion, 100mg lamotrigine
yup. that's it.
Quaker, teacher, parent,