Today I’m pleased to share with you a guest post from a blogging buddy of mine, Elizabeth, from Transitional Woman. Enjoy her “bad mom” story!
Once you’ve set your course as an Experienced Bad Mom, it only gets worse.
Recently, my youngest son, a high school senior, was invited to interviews for a university’s honors and music programs. The honors department suggested an overnight stay with a current honors student Friday evening after his interview and various forums and seminars. On Saturday, he would take his music test, and have his music interviews and auditions.
The online sign up form for the honors interview asked if he would be bringing a guest.
“Does this mean me?” I asked.
“I think so,” he replied.
“I don’t really want to go. Julia (my daughter) is going to take off work Friday and we plan to go sightseeing. Do you mind if I don’t go?”
“I don’t care,” he answered, “other than the interview I don’t want to do this other stuff either.”
“Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind. We’ll wait until your interview is over and then leave, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Sure, fine, I’ll be all right,” he assured me.
“You won’t have anywhere to store your tuba for the music audition on Saturday while you’re doing the honors thing, so we’ll pick you up for breakfast and bring it.”
That Saturday we were having a leisurely breakfast with my sleep deprived son when I noticed the time. It was 10:50 a.m. and I noted that we were fine because the audition check-in didn’t start until 11:00 a.m. Or did it? I fished the schedule out of my purse and saw that check-in began at 10:00 a.m. The music theory test began at 11:00 a.m.
Sped to the school. Couldn’t find parking. “We’ll drop you off as close as possible, run in and get registered, we’ll park, then you can come back for your tuba,” I screamed frantically.
Out he jumped. We found a close, legal parking space and I started to worry. “Will he make it in time? Should we try to find him and bring his tuba and music?” I asked my daughter.
She agreed. I grabbed the tuba, or rather heaved the tuba out of her little hatchback, she snagged the music folder (we thought it was the right one) and ran. Sort of, you can’t run with a tuba in a big, black case.
Door one is wrong, door two is wrong, I’m huffing and puffing. Door three is wrong. An experienced good daddy, visiting with his son, asks, “What is that, a body bag?”
Door four, yes. We crashed through, bellowed to the woman standing guard asking if we’re in the right place. We continue exclaiming loudly about the situation. We enter a very quiet hall where cool, calm and collected mommies are waiting in line with their docile music students.
I turn and shout, “Adam. Where’s Adam? Do you see him?” I looked to the front. I looked to the back. Where was he? He was four feet away.
We arranged a 4:00 p.m. pick up time. And instead of waiting like all of the good mommies, we went sightseeing. He finished early, there was a traffic jam, we were late.
“Did anyone ask you why you were alone?” I inquired on the drive home.
“A few people did, but I just told them my mom and sister went sightseeing.”
Last month Adam chose his school. As part of the admission process he has to attend a two day freshman orientation. “There’s a place on the form where it asks if I want to bring a guest,” Adam said.
“Does that mean me? I thought Dad and I could drop you off and spend a couple of days sightseeing…….”
Elizabeth has been a writer, editor, homeschooler, homemaker and a few other things too. She blogs at www.transitional-woman.blogspot.com. People with a great sense of humor are some of her favorite people in the world. She loves all things chocolate, enjoys knitting but is very slow, and her favorite song is Shout by the Isley Brothers. Her husband has put up with her with great love, patience and grace for 26 years. She has been richly blessed with four children who, she claims, are definitely smarter and nicer than their mother.