I was fine.
Baby has his "Fall Festival" today at school from 10:45 - 11:30. A terrible timeframe for me to attempt to attend.
But earlier in the year (after missing one too many school activities for the boyz) I made a vow to myself that I would NOT be absent from ANY of these events EVER AGAIN.
Famous last words, huh?
But I was fine.
I resolved myself to the fact that this mid-morning event was simply not doable without having to take a full vacation day, which I don't have.
Hubby and Grandma will be in attendance. Hubby has strict instructions to take a plethora of pictures and video of 3-year old Baby dressed up as a leaf and marching and singing with his peers.
I was fine.
As soon as he woke up this morning, Baby scurried into my bedroom where I was getting ready for work, his eyes squinty from the light, his hair in disarray, his blue blanket trailing behind him. In his squeaky little voice he asked me,
"Why you not come to my party today, Momma?"
I stopped being fine.
I put down my hairbrush and approached him, kneeling down so we were eye level, and swallowed down my heart as I wrapped my arms around him and said,
"Momma's gotta get on her train, buddy, and go to her work in Boston. Daddy and Grandma will be at your party! Daddy's bringing the camera, so make sure you do lots of smiles, okay?"
I'm not fine.
The conundrum of being a Working Mother? It SUCKS.