May 17, 2010

why hormones are a bitch and friends are important

So there I am, walking out of the preschool after drop-off, barely 8 A.M. I've got my jaw clenched and my eyes open as wide as they can go to hold back the hysterics. I'm doing fine, right? Keeping it all together. Then I see my friend Lisa has pulled up next to my car to drop-off her little girl as well.

And that's it, y'all. You can't be all stoic in the face of friendliness. It just doesn't work.

So there I am, leaning against my (very dirty) car, sobbing, Lisa staring at me in bewilderment but being VERY NICE (because that's what friends do when confronted with randomly bawling other friends).

Why so blue? What's wrong? What happened to evoke this downpour?

Anna didn't want to go to school. She, in fact, had a full-on collapse when I tried to leave the classroom, clinging to me like a spider monkey and wailing for me not to leave, please don't leave me mommy, I want to stay with YOOOUUUUUU!!!! The teachers had to pull her off me and geez oh man does that girl have a strong grip. It was a scene.

The problem is that most mornings the kids meet in a big classroom but some mornings, depending on teachers, they meet in a classroom with a younger class before heading over to the big class. Anna HATES drop-off in the little kid's class. Even though all her friends are there, even though she knows all the teachers, even though she's been doing this for YEARS. Drop-off in the little kid's class is akin to torture, child abuse and full on abandonment worthy of years in prison for the horrible, terrible, awful mom who leaves her there.

Which would be, you guessed it, me.

Now mostly I am sort of annoyed by these random drop-off fits. It seems like such a silly thing to get upset over and starting my morning off with a screaming, clingy 5-year-old is never my preference. I usually hug her, pry her off and hand her to a teacher, and leave as quickly as possible to minimize the damage. But today?

Today I wailed in the parking lot like a broken doll on the shoulder of a bewildered and time-crunched friend. Who was, can I say again? VERY VERY NICE. As if it's totally normal for someone to get upset about a whiny preschool drop-off after more than two years of doing that exact same drop-off two and three times a week.

Which, I suppose, is the point. It probably IS normal... if you are seven months pregnant with your third child and so pumped full of emotionally compromising hormones that when you pull in to fill up your car with gas and find out you've picked the world's slowest fuel pump you are filled with a rage that could burn down the whole gas station.

Just, you know, as an example. Not that I've ever done that personally. Of course not.

(I called the school, by the way. Anna's fine. It's only the mama who's losing her shit.)

5 comments:

Alison said...

I'd like to remind you of how, at 8 months pregnant, I forced my husband, in-laws and friends to rearrange all the furniture in my entire house THREE times (and cried many tears after each rearrange) only to put it all back the way it was (and then insist that we HAVE TO MOVE RIGHT NOW, also in tears.) Yeah, we've all been there.

Lisa said...

100%, Grade-A, Normal :)

grandmem said...

let me hold out to you, as candy to a toddler, the joys of being post-menopausal. you too, in time, will achieve this exaulted state.

Lea said...

Aw Megalicious (I'm channeling Jen here), I also agree that this is completely normal! I was also a hormonal mess during pregnancy (and still am!).

Emily on the Southern Prairie said...

the title of this post really just sums it all up! :)