Teachable moments

The best part of my summer was having Shaune at home.

A home feels complete and balanced when one person is allowed to focus solely on it and the kids while the other person can focus solely on work. And if the working person takes on some of the routines in the evenings and weekends, well then you really have something. I tried to imagine a more ideal scenario but couldn’t.

Okay, that’s not completely true.

Ideally we would have someone come in to cook and clean. And iron. Oh, and run through sight words with Deaglan a few nights a week because I’m learning that I’m just not cut out for the patience it takes to teach a little person how to read. Come to think of it, I could also use a hand doing my hair in the mornings. I’ve painted myself into a corner with this new cut and frankly, I’m exhausted. So is the blow dryer and straightener.

I worked from home yesterday so I could be flexible for the first day of school. Both kids did great and I think, so did Shaune. He said it was surprising how much more respectful and not mouthy the teenagers are when they know you’re their full-time legitimate teacher versus just a supply.

One of the educators at Naveen’s daycare asked me if I was sick. Before I could answer, she continued by clarifying that she was only asking because my face looked tired and swollen. That’s likely the last time I’ll make eye contact with her. Coincidentally, I’ve looked into the curriculum for the Early Childhood Education program over at the college. I’m seriously thinking about lobbying to make Social Skills 101 mandatory in the first year.

Unfortunately I don’t know when I’ll find the time.

It’s five in the morning and this is the only time I could find to update my blog. I did however, remember to take a picture of the kids yesterday. I even made a sign. I also reminded both of them that they were to listen to their teachers and be good and kind people. 

I thought hard about reminding Naveen again that he was not allowed to say “What the fuck”, but decided against it. I think I made my point the day before. I’d even patted myself on the back when Deaglan piped in to really cement my teachable moment. In a wise older-brother way, he told Naveen that those kinds of words were pretty bad and that he had to wait until he was a teenager to be able to use them but even then he could only say them to himself or his friends. Never teachers. Never bosses. And never ever to Mommy and Daddy.

It’s nice when you can witness first-hand the fruits of your parenting labor. Don’t you think?

I don't even know why I bother to ask them to smile. Naveen decided that this was his new "cweepy, picture face."

 

I also found these pictures on the camera.

 

Deaglan lost his first tooth and got five bucks from the Tooth-fairy. I don't see any hopes of us becoming a single-income family any time soon. Five bucks!

If Shaune isn't thinking about us or work, then he's thinking about Hallloween. I'm not sure when he took this but I'm not surprised. Both my boys have inherited the "Halloween should be a national holiday" gene. Naveen could imitate a Zombie even before he could fully pronounce his own name. My husband was never more proud.

Back to work reality

This is my non-fiction post for the prompt we'd like you to write a scene that includes a happy ending. So far being back to work has been exhausting and emotional. I know that once we all adjust, we'll likely experience more happy times. I didn't include a happy ending because, well, so far it's been exhausting and emotional...

“How’s he been?” I whispered to Miss Kylie.

“You know what? For his first day, he did great. Like we told you on the phone, when you called again this afternoon, he had lots of moments of realization of where he was, then started crying. But that’s to be expected.”

“Mmhmm. What about food? Did he eat?”

I fired off one question after another, wanting to hear that something went right. It was Wednesday, the third day in my first week of being back to work. Nothing was going as I’d hoped.

“He ate some bread, a little yogurt, a few grapes. But you probably went through this when you went back after Deaglan right? It’ll just take a few days for him to adjust. And, for you to adjust.” She tilted her head, looking at me with sympathy. I blinked back my tears. I walked out to the deck where Miss Sandy and Miss Debbie were watching three of the babies play in the sun on the enclosed space.

“Naveen, look who it is! Is that Mummy?” Miss Sandy chirped. She was Deaglan’s favourite when he was in the Baby Room two and a half years ago. I picked up my tiny boy, who collapsed into my arms, crying and grabbing my face. Where have you been? he demanded with his miniature fists.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, my sweetheart,” I whispered into the warmth of his sweet soft neck.

On Monday morning he woke up with a fever, watery eyes and clogged sinuses. Shaune took a sick day from work so I wouldn’t have to miss my first day back. On Tuesday, Gramma and Grampa drove the hour to London to watch him so I wouldn’t have to miss my second day. Wednesday was his first full day at Daycare.

And each morning, Deaglan had to be peeled off of me, wailing, “Mama, don’t go, mama don’t go.” I pressed my palm against his cheek, reminding him of the Kissing Hand, the story about Chester Raccoon who didn’t want to go to school either. Chester’s mother tells him about the kissing hand, a kiss on his palm from his mother he could access anytime he felt lonely. I promised that I would come back at the end of the day, pick him up and we’d sit on the front step at home and eat fudgesicles.

This morning I got into the van after dropping the boys off and drove the three minutes to my parking space, wondering how I would ever get used to being away from them for eight hours each day. I thought long and hard about those mothers in primitive cultures who kept their babies on their bodies in packs for the first year, nursed them right into and through toddlerhood. A pain shot through me, remembering Naveen’s incredulous crying when he realized that I was leaving him there that first morning.

And as I stepped out of the van into the small puddle I’d parked beside, the buckle on my black sandal broke off and fell into the muddy water. I fished around, found it and climbed back into the vehicle to slip into the heels I was saving for the soft carpet of my workspace. When I stepped back outside, I lost my balance for a second and dropped my envelope full of snapshots of the kids into the same puddle.

I don’t know what I was expecting this first week back to work.