As mothers, as women we can be sensitive. Some of us (me!) get teary from time-to-time even when those times may not actually call for tears.
Case in point.
On Saturday, my little Cricket was going to her first dance lesson. She was beyond excited. I was nervous. My Cricket is very independent, but when it comes to new situations, she isn’t one to jump right in; she observes first, preferably from the comfort of Mommy’s lap. Once she gets what is going on, she is off — never to be seen again.
The only challenge is that some locations aren’t fit for this little time of observation. When that is the case, she can lose it. It can ruin an entire experience. It gives me anxiety. Not her, she just refuses to do it. Done. Never to happen again. Well, never is a strong word. But Cricket…well, she is THAT stubborn. Sound familiar, Mom? Yes, she totally gets it from me. But that is a topic for another day.
Anyway, her new dance class doesn’t do parent observations. It is a drop and go. Luckily it is close to home, so we can walk.
We head to class and are walking along at sort of a fast jog because, of course, we are running late. I am often on the brink of running late. Three kids can do that to you. So we get to dance and go right in. There is no one waiting, no one dropping off. My heart sinks. I realize what I have done.
I am a half hour late to class! I got the time wrong.
I think to myself, this is going to be a disaster. She isn’t going to get a hug or any more mommy time, she will decided she hates this and never want to go back. She was so excited and I ruined it. My mind is going ninety. I think all the worst things.
I dump her into her ballet shoes. I throw her into the dance room with a look of apology to the teacher, peel her off and I walk out…crying. I couldn’t even turn around to see if she was OK. I feel terrible and I can’t believe I am crying over dance. I feel like my tardiness may have ruined the experience for her. I didn’t give her the transition time she needed. I just left her.
Sometimes, I feel like no matter how hard I work at this motherhood thing I just can’t get it right.
Feeling sorry for myself I sit outside. There isn’t time to go home and collect myself (only 15 minutes of class left). So I sit. Another mother comes over and hugs me. Almost a stranger, I had met her once before, but that hug, that look of understanding between mothers, saved me.
Turns out, everything was fine. Cricket was fine. I was fine. I didn’t need to worry about my tough girl. Tears weren’t really necessary.
But maybe those tears were. They led to support from another Upside Down Mom, that ended up making my day.
How have you been helped an Upside Down Mom or Dad?
A cute picture of Cricket showing off her moves in her Halloween costume!