Last week we were invited to a school BBQ, an opportunity to meet the teacher, see the classroom, and mingle with other parents.
We received a reminder call the night before, the little voices on the other end reminding us to bring money.
I was giddy.
You want more money?
Just let me in to see my child’s space. Let me close to her teacher! Let me grill talk to the teacher about how she’s doing. Help me put faces to the names and names to the faces! Show me her cubby.
Slow down freak.
I was over the moon as we approached the school and looked around with one of THE biggest smiles on my face.
I greeted other parents with my face contorted and an elastic, stretched toothy grin that hurt my cheeks.
Why were they looking at me like that?
This is huge!
She knows the janitors name!
My heart burst with pride.
I couldn’t believe she was writing S’s, putting her hand up, and following complex steps.
She was making friends, learning new names, and creating amazing memories all her own.
My face may have looked ridiculous and I might have squeaked with pride a couple of times but it was all out of motherly love.
The kind of embarrassment that will follow a child their whole life.
And I didn’t really get it until now.
I’m gonna be THAT mom