The Day That Could Have Been Much Worse and Why I'm Thankful

Yesterday was the kind of day that would have been defined in terms of complete suckage in the past and sent me completely over the edge of reason. However, I have made changes lately and the events of yesterday took on a different tone mostly because of how I have relearned to react to things (most of the time).

It was an ordinary enough morning but as I was in the shower I remembered that my son had brought home a homework assignment to do this weekend. It wasn't a big thing, just read a very short book and answer a couple of questions. But since I forgot about it until early Monday morning it was pretty much like pulling teeth from a boy who probably stayed up too late the previous night playing Legos surreptitiously in his room long after he was told to go to sleep.

But we got through it. In time to pile into the car...Ms. D with her new ball that her cousin sweetly decided she should have because she enjoyed it at his house so much (she has brought it with her ever since)...M and K with their backpacks and rowdy attitudes. I had little hope for civilized schooling. Small prayers sent to their teachers.

D and I went on to her "school" a parent and child activity mostly unique to Minnesota. (ECFE if you're interested.) The kids in her class had started tentatively separating from their parents and now, with almost 8 months of class and practice at separating from parents for about an hour or so, most of the kids are separating without fuss. D had some issues for the first half of the school year but since January she has been completely comfortable when I've left the room.

When I returned to the room today to pick her up one of the teachers rushed to us. It was unusual and for a split second I thought she was going to tell me about a potty training success or something similar. That was where my mind was I guess.

It was not the case.

No, instead I was told that my little bitty pretty baby girl almost hung herself from a toddler slide by way of some plastic Mardi-Gras style necklaces. There was a red mark on her neck remaining from the incident when I arrived in the room after parent time ended. I was calm. She was fine. Later, as I was thinking about what might have happened I grew angry. I wondered why I was not summoned to the room immediately following the incident. I worried about whether they had removed all of the necklaces from now on. I was assured that D was never really choking and that the incident happened and was over in a matter of seconds (resulting in the necklaces being cut from around her neck.)

I could be irate. I'm not. I'm happy my child is safe. I hope all necklaces are gone. I will check today. FYI--necklaces in a toddler room are not well-advised.

Later in the day D slept for almost 2 hours. She didn't really nap the previous day so she was extra tired anyway and I suspect that nearly hanging oneself may be a little tiring. (Thank the Lord she is fine I would be even more nuts than I already am if she were not fine.) I joke but it is not funny. Had I lost my littlest one (any of my kids) I would fear for my own sanity.

I nudged D awake slightly before we needed to go pick up her siblings. She was groggy, sweaty, bright-eyed and independent. Typical child of mine.

We went to pick up her siblings. We've gotten into the habit as the weather has gotten so atypically beautiful so quickly that we've walked outside of the BIGS' school while they've finished their lessons. D pulls and resists my handhold, but we manage to reach a compromise.

We pick up her siblings and drive home. It is uneventful. Normal. I think my unusual day has past the unusual bit but it hasn't.

The kids put their stuff away. K goes out to play, M does her homework then goes out to play. I check her work and discover it's lacking so I call her indoors again.

She reworks the problems and returns outdoors.

Minutes later I hear wailing, crying, "don't tell mom!" "I'm telling mom!"

Miss M enters, crying hysterically. It takes a few moments for me to realize her face and neck are covered in paint. Not good. The Boy is sent to his room. He's clearly remorseful yet not that sure he's done something wrong. How do you know that you've done something wrong??? Especially when you're five?

I call their dad to ask how to remove spray paint from faces. He suggests olive oil and it works. My son is cowering in his room. My oldest is laughing because I've come up with ways to make her see the humor. The toddler nearly died this morning.

The day was emotional. A set of near misses. M may have lost sight because she had spray paint all over her face (thankfully missing eyes) and neck.

This day could have been much worse. I spent the day being calm. Every incident, I was calm, understanding, loving. I'm not sure that is good.