Yesterday morning I got an emergency call from Sarah's classroom. I had forgotten to send her with a booster seat for the field trip. In a complete panic, I pull Anna out of the bathtub, dry her off, dress her, grab my keys and race to school with the booster. I knew that Sarah, who puts her show and tell in her backpack three days early so that she won't forget, would not be happy with this oversight. When she arrives home from school I apologize and ask, "Were you embarrassed about the booster seat?"

 

"No, but Mom," she bit her lip, "you brought it while wearing exercise clothes!" True, I did. I didn't even think about it until she said it. But isn't that okay when I'm saving the day? Doesn't wearing exercise clothes make me the hip, active mom anyway? Apparently not. It just makes me embarrassing, which is something I'd really like to avoid doing to my children. But maybe this is how it starts: you are embarrassing without even meaning to be.

 

To be fair, sometimes my girls embarrass me. Just last night Elise, who again had left her breakfast on the counter, told me her teacher had to feed her saltines at school. Saltines. Suddenly the phone call to please bring a granola bar to school made sense. Her teacher had asked her to call. Maybe this happens all the time in third grade. Maybe she keeps a stash of saltines for this very purpose. (Please tell me I'm right.) But really, what kind of a mother doesn't feed her child breakfast?

To preserve the dignity of this family, I think we need to set up a few new rules. It is quite clear that I am no longer allowed to walk into the school wearing exercise clothes. Fine. But no more leaving breakfast on the counter either. I'll get dressed and everybody agrees to eat. It can be our new and subtle way to say, "I love you" (without getting all embarassing and mushy about it.)

(c) 2008 Carrie Finlinson