Wednesday, September 17

whipped

Yesterday I was called into the Gigi's school directors office.

I know, I know, who thought it would happen in her second week of school?

Surely it should have happened during the first week when I went to pick up Gigi and found her holding a boy twice her size in a headlock - but I never question authority and what they chose to address - I just run.

Anyhow, I was called to the directors office to discuss their website redesign because that's the committee I volunteered for at her school. It was that or making play clay every two weeks which sounded waaaaay too involved. I'd rather be doing familiar nerdy stuff than taking responsibility for making the consistency of dough just "so" for a loud bunch of ankle-biting critics. Those kids are brutal with their feedback.

So there I stood in front of the directors desk, sweating a bit due to flashbacks from my own childhood but replace "really nice director" with "Sister Mary Margaret Donaghy". I was trying my best to stay focused on what needed to be done for the school website and remember that I was not in trouble. Yet.

But I still had this edge of nervousness.

Now I don't know about you, but when I'm nervous, I do one of two things: I either shut-up and remain uncomfortably silent to the point where people ask who's the mute in the corner OR I babble incessantly and just share way too much information. Neither are attractive and I once again am reminded that I really need to find some new coping strategies.

Anyhow, at this particular moment I chose to babble incessantly and babble I did. We talked about sites that I've helped create, graphic work I have done, and that's when I slipped... I said I blogged.

Oh my gawd, did I just tell her I have a blog?

Before I could stop the crap as it poured freely from my pie hole, I babbled about blogging and tried to keep it just to my wonderful preschool stuff (eg. clean and clear of f-bombs) over at Savvy Source Toronto (though my most recent post was about drinking without the kids). But then I remembered my bio at SS. My bio contains links to my other blogs. My stomach dropped as I mentally reviewed almost three years of posts here at motherbumper.

Hey - has anyone else gone back into their archive to read old posts and said "sh*t, did I write this post? holy crap, what was I on?" No? Just me? Great.

I figured I had said nothing alarming about the school (except about that scary clown mural in the lobby) but I still felt kind of woozy from my self-inflicted outing. I wonder how do super heroes deal with this kind of shit? But then, I doubt many super heroes out themselves out of stupidity.

Anyhow, I was kind of hoping for the earth to swallow me up right then or there in the office, though I would have settled for a fire-alarm or small earthquake to change the topic.

Just then, I heard a loud booming voice from the doorway behind me. I turned to find the source.

There stood my daughter, hands on hips, with a look of suspicion on her face. Her eyes said "what are YOU doing HERE?" She had that eye-brow cock just-so. It was obvious that she was not pleased with my presence at her school, during her time.

"MOMMA" she declared loud and clear, "You must leave. Right NOW!"

I smiled at her and nodded. I knew enough to know not to argue with her lest I bring out the side of Gigi I do not want the director of the school to see.

Then I turned back to the director and smiled rather helplessly.

The director looked at me, then carefully asked "Did Gigi just tell you to leave?"

I nodded slowly and kept smiling that helpless smile.

Great - so not only does the director of my child's school now know I blog, she also knows that I'm completely and utterly whipped by my daughter.

Then I heard Gigi yell "MOMMA" again from the area outside the office. I glanced back to see her standing there giving me the perfect stink-eye that spoke volumes.

So I left.

I'm so whipped (hangs head in shame)

20 comments:

kittenpie said...

Pumpkinpie tries to pull that rude, bossy stuff ALL THE TIME, but, well, it pisses me off, so she gets in trouble for it instead. She hasn't quite learned yet that there is no sense getting my hackles up.

"Sister Mary Margaret" said...

Oh child, you exaggerate. I understand how willful and challenging children like your "Gigi" can be. I was not disappointed in you to say the least.

I will, however, say that I do not care for the photo of the "nuns" drinking beer.

Laurels word said...

That was too funny. My mad is the same way. She'll tell you straight to your face she's a diva. I just threaten wearing pajamas to a PTA meeting and that usually buys me a couple weeks free of drama. Embaressing my kids works for me :)

Mayberry said...

The director was probably just speechlessly impressed at Gigi's independence and self-sufficiency!

Mamalooper said...

Monkeygirl is ALWAYS trying the bossy business on me - something about being almost three. She apparently ALWAYS knows better.

Laura said...

Last week, in car line up at pick up time at my children's Catholic School, the kindergarten teacher made her way out of the school, and down the stairs, to my car, where she shouted out, "I hear you have a blog!!!" Then,the first grade teacher said, "Isn't it my life is a piece of cake? Is that blogspot.com??" I ran home and IMMEDIATELY read past blogs...and GREAT...why did I have to write that I looked forward to serving my son's third grade teacher a plate of my own shit?????

I feel your pain, sister...

Don Mills Diva said...

You and me both sister, you and me both.

It's why I drink actually.

Mandy said...

I babble too to the directors/principals, etc. My theory is they're used to it.

As for Gigi... hmmm... well, um, send SB next time?

for a different kind of girl said...

This is why I never use any words that start with the letter "B" around anyone I know, which is super hard, because often, the first thing I do is apologize for all the babbling I'm doing in front of them! Babbling is loaded like a bomb with Bs!

You have my sympathies. For both these matters.

Mother Musings said...

Oh, yes, I know this well! Except that it's my 3 YO that's ordering us around. She even told me that I couldn't take a shower today!!! I explained that if she didn't want me to stink up the house, then Mommy *HAD* to take a shower. Geez.

Aren't kids the BESTEST?!

Heather said...

I am familiar with the babbling...and the self-outing. Oh and the running home to read past posts to see if/what I said about any particular person or place. Gah!

nomotherearth said...

Man, we're all whipped. The Boy tries to tell me when I can and can't sing. I tell him it's ALWAYS singing time at Casa Earth. Suck it up, boyo.

Kat said...

This is when you should have tried to assert your mommydom on the child in an attempt to save face with the preschool director.

IRISHKAT said...

I am so guilty of the incessant blabbering when under pressure. Then add to the fact that I am a fair skinned little lassie whose face turns super ultra red and it is all bad.

Oh and to add on the Sister Maragret - the nuns at my school would drink beer and wear football jerseys over their habits on Sundays! They did however always turn down shots..... hmmm.

sam {temptingmama} said...

Things we do for love!

I get bossed around all the time. His favourite? Mommy, don't talk to me like that. (when he's getting told to do something)

Mac and Cheese said...

I probably would have engaged in a futile argument with mine, in an attempt to save face, but nothing good would have come of it

Lisa b said...

that is all so awesome.

the bossiness is so irritating it is best to laugh at it.

also the head of patient safety at sk directly asked me if I have a blog (like all the other annoying parents)
and as far as I know she is not reading. If she isn't she sure isn't fixing anything anyway.

mothergoosemouse said...

What lisa b said. I can't help laughing when they try to get all authoritative on me.

Anissa Mayhew said...

I have to filter myself mightily because both people at my kid's religious private school and my grandfather read. *sigh* ooooh to be able to just freely indulge my gutter mouth.

Good luck on that whipped thing, if you figure out how to fix it, please post!

Stimey said...

This post is both hilarious and tragic. Which is just how I like my blogs.

Love it. (And you!)