Chris and I are a good match because we balance each other out. I tend to be, well, slightly emotional and (ahem) somewhat high strung, while not much rattles my dear husband. His constant calm in the face of my emotional up and downs help keep me centered.
Last night, I got home from work already stressed out. My stress level just increased as I exchanged a few hundred emails with the other kindergarten homeroom parents regarding the plans for the upcoming graduation ceremony, reception and the teachers’ gifts. I realized I had to get the kiddies fed and I had all of a half an hour to race around the house to get out in time for my very first tennis lesson. (Tennis? What am I thinking?) My stress only went higher as I navigated dirty dishes, Aidan’s school papers and I tried to come up with a plan as to when, exactly I was going to bake cupcakes for Aidan’s graduation reception. Oh, and did I mention I am hosting Chris's family for dinner Friday night for Chris's Mom's birthday?
Chris couldn’t handle my running around the house like a wound up ball of anxiety and finally forced me to stand still as he asked me, “What are you stressed about? What is going on with you?”
I gave him my evil overworked mommy glare as I blurted out, “Work was crazy. The house is a mess. I have to leave for tennis in fifteen minutes and I’m hungry. Should I eat dinner or wait? I have to make cupcakes for the graduation reception on Friday – but I don’t know when I am going to do that since I have to work tomorrow and set up for graduation on Thursday night. Two of the parents from the class haven’t paid the money for the teacher gift. I need to buy the teacher gift. And now I am going to be late for tennis!” I threw my hands up in frustration as my head spun.
Chris hugged me, pulled away from and said quietly, “So basically this is about cupcakes, kindergarten and tennis lessons?”
Well, when you put it like that – even I think I sound a bit like a nutcase. Damn it.
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My friend Cynthia called me this morning to warn me the Whoville Police had staged a roadblock on the way to the boys’ schools to check inspections and registrations. As I may have mentioned, my inspection expired back in January. (I know. I KNOW. I just haven’t had a chance.) Thanks to Cynthia’s kind phone call, I took the back roads and avoided a showdown with the law enforcement of Whoville. (And I still got Aidan to school and myself to work on time. How’s that for a morning success story?)
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Did I mention tomorrow is Aidan’s kindergarten graduation? I cried after I dropped him off at school today. My baby, a boy who had to be carried kicking and screaming into school for his first day, is happily moving on to first grade. I am so proud of the boy he is, but a part of me will always miss my baby.
I give myself one minute into the ceremony until I am weeping inconsolably.
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