Not Ready/ Bad Mom

We took D for his kindergarten open house last Friday. He wasn’t all that thrilled to meet his new teacher. She also wasn’t particularly warm. At least that’s how I felt. Perhaps she was too busy greeting and answering parents concerns. But someone told me later that she is one of the best the school has. Hence will cut her some slack.

I am very skeptical about this kindergarten business. I know I am not ready at all to send my baby boy to school. But it’s too late now. Registrations done, open house attended. He is starting school tomorrow.

This morning I tried pumping him up, asked him if he was ready for school. I love my lunch box is the reply I get. He got himself a pretty neat looking Spiderman lunch box and that is ALL he is excited about. And also the fact that he gets to come home at 3 p.m. Early, mama! Yiyyee!!!

So what am I to think about his first day at school? I am scared, apprehensive and nervous. I drop him off at 8:30 am and I envision a clingy, sad, teary eyed D refusing to let go off me. God Help me!

I plan to dedicate a few more minutes this evening talking to him about what he should and should not expect from school. Hopefully this and all the talk that we have been having the past few weeks will make this transition an easy one for him. Maybe I should lure him by mentioning the school library one more time, something he loved spending time in on the day of the open house. Who knows, will see. GOD, IF YOU ARE REALLY LISTENING, PLEASE DO HELP ME!

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The Case of the Discarded Cookie

Speaking of God helping me tomorrow, the chances of me getting any support from him are pretty slim. Simply because I sinned yesterday. Now He knows that I have sinned many a times in my life- sins that I am completely ashamed of even now. But yesterday’s sin is graver than any since I committed it as a mother.

This is what happened.

A, my little imp begged for a chocolate chip cookie to snack on. This is after she munched on a boatload of junk throughout the day. Another cookie??? I was so tired of negotiating with her that I gave in. What the heck…go for it, just eat away. And just as expected, she didn’t finish it. She ate half of it and left the rest on the kitchen counter. A little later, I picked it up and threw the half eaten cookie into the trash. Something I am very good at. Anything half eaten is trash for me unless of course it is something that appeals to my taste buds. Then I happily holler- DO NOT WASTE FOOD and quickly polish off the leftovers. Another reason for my expanding girth.

Now I don’t fancy chocolate chip cookies. Not at all. I find them rather sweet and too chocolatey for my liking unlike Hubby Dear, who can live on them. Just like an apple keeps the doctor away, a chocolate chip cookie or cookies will keep Hubby dear utterly happy. Sometimes I feel his loyalty towards this damn snack is more than it is towards me. Sigh! Anyway, so back to the case of the discarded cookie.

Hubby dear decided to empty the trash and as he was doing so, he noticed the sad looking cookie on top of the pile. His immediate reaction was WHO THREW THIS COOKIE?

Before I could answer, D said, “Papa, it was A. She was eating but she didn’t finish it. And she threw it.” Tattletaling on his sister for no rhyme or reason. Now this is where I could have intervened, corrected D for concocting a story and owned up. BUT I DIDN'T. I let Hubby dear believe that the culprit is our little innocent daughter. Hubby dear took off on this rant of how precious food is and sternly told A how she should have given the half eaten cookie to him instead of throwing it away. I COULD HAVE FINISHED IT – YOU THREW AN EDIBLE COOKIE INTO THE TRASH…FOR NO REASON AT ALL..SUCH A WASTE, sounding all very serious and disappointed. Of course, this led to A tearing up. Poor thing, she didn’t know any better and ended up apologizing to her dad for something she hadn’t done.

And what did I do while all this was going on? NOTHING! I busied myself with something else and pretended not to hear what transpired. So much for being this nice mother that I think I am. For redemptive measures, I tried hugging my little daughter extra tight last night but it didn’t work. I am still riding on guilt waves.

Tsk, tsk...I am a mean, conniving mom! It will be long before I recover from this one.