Tears, sweat, and poop

First of all, I have to say I have already failed the the challenge I set up for myself -- I shouldn't use the word failed.  While doing the best I can, I missed the mark.  It is hard to find time everyday.  It seems that within a 24 hour day I should be able to find ten minutes to blog, but if you are staying at home with your kids you know that isn't always possible.  Anyway, challenge redesigned -- find time when I can.

Back to tears, sweat, and poop

My two year old started preschool yesterday.  He ran into the room and didn't look back -- great you say -- great for him--a bit sad for me. I have stopped my career ( a career I loved --- teaching high school) and now I feel like he doesn't even care about being without me for a WHOLE hour.  What a blow to the ego.  I do feel good for him-- I hate seeing him cry.  I love him-- but not even a glance back to make mommy feel good about herself. So the tears started to flow my-baby-is-a-big-boy-tears.


Next the sweat.  The school had a room next to the preschool room set up for the mommies to sit and wait for the hour for their little joys.  They had coffee, water, and treats for the mommies.  Very sweet.  But I was sweating.  I don't know what my problem was - I was nervous for my boy.  I was nervous for myself -- a room filled with strangers.  I felt like I was back in high school or worst yet middle school.  I was feeling like the uncool mommy-- I am not sure how else to describe my insecurity.   Hence the sweat -- I mean SWEAT.

Poop -- oh poop.  I have a three month old daughter.  I had her sitting on my lap during the mommy meeting.  We had to go around the circle, introduce ourselves, and tell a secret.  Are you kidding me?  I started to sweat more thinking about some secret that would be interesting.  Some secret besides -- I cannot stop sweating.  And then it happened -- my daughter pooped a ton.  Not only through her clothing, but all over my lap.  When I looked down at my skirt, I started to sweat more.  I had two changes of clothing for her just in case, but I didn't anticipate having to change my clothing.  The poop arrived to complete the trifecta of my morning.

My son came out of class with a new friend.  As they started to walk away from each other, they completed their morning with a hug.  I started to cry again.  I am a  mess.