Not so easy
Tell me it gets easier.
Every day something has gotten screwed up or gone wrong with Katie and school. Yesterday when I picked her up she immediately handed me her glasses and said "can you wash these mama, they've changed from purple to black". You guessed it, they weren't hers. I handed them off to the daycare leader who promised she'd check with the teacher in the morning. C gets a call about 45 minutes later - they've located Katie's glasses (phew). And the ones she was wearing? They belonged to her teacher. So my far sighted daughter spent half of yesterday wearing reading glasses that she likely couldn't see out of, and her teacher somehow missed the fact that her reading glasses had gotten smaller and now had "Barbie" written on the side.
I feel like the worst kind of whiner. Honestly, I do expect bumps, I do expect mistakes and miscommunications and I'm not angry in the least. It's just that I am so wound up about her school, so frustrated with the language barrier, feeling so subpar about my parenting and my ability to be useful to her that each small mishap threatens to be the proverbial straw. C keeps telling me to relax, that no one is judging me but dammit I am judging me. I start getting stressed out every day even before 2 o'clock. By the time I actually get to the school at 3:40 I'm generally well into the throws of a panic attack. All of my carefully practiced French greetings have vanished, as have all of the teachers' names.
I understand that it's me, all me. Understanding does not make it easier.
Every day something has gotten screwed up or gone wrong with Katie and school. Yesterday when I picked her up she immediately handed me her glasses and said "can you wash these mama, they've changed from purple to black". You guessed it, they weren't hers. I handed them off to the daycare leader who promised she'd check with the teacher in the morning. C gets a call about 45 minutes later - they've located Katie's glasses (phew). And the ones she was wearing? They belonged to her teacher. So my far sighted daughter spent half of yesterday wearing reading glasses that she likely couldn't see out of, and her teacher somehow missed the fact that her reading glasses had gotten smaller and now had "Barbie" written on the side.
I feel like the worst kind of whiner. Honestly, I do expect bumps, I do expect mistakes and miscommunications and I'm not angry in the least. It's just that I am so wound up about her school, so frustrated with the language barrier, feeling so subpar about my parenting and my ability to be useful to her that each small mishap threatens to be the proverbial straw. C keeps telling me to relax, that no one is judging me but dammit I am judging me. I start getting stressed out every day even before 2 o'clock. By the time I actually get to the school at 3:40 I'm generally well into the throws of a panic attack. All of my carefully practiced French greetings have vanished, as have all of the teachers' names.
I understand that it's me, all me. Understanding does not make it easier.
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