So this is how it goes. I get out of bed and race to get the kids going for the day. I have a 4 year old and a 1 year old and I'm always thinking this could be easier but it's always an all-out emergency, therefore I'm always leaving the house with my blood pressure through the roof, one child crying, my phone or wallet lost and buried somewhere deep in the house and a sinking feeling that I am doing this parenting thing all wrong and failing miserably.
My "village" has been abandoned, burnt to the ground and non-existent. It's just me and the fears I have surrounding motherhood and the millions of articles popping up on my Facebook feed about SIDS and secondary drowning and Measles and vaccines and ADHD and everything else that keeps your eyes from closing at 2:00 a.m.
This is where I am when I trudge uphill four long city blocks pushing my double stroller filled with two kids and a lot of other crap. No matter how cold it is, I'm always sweating and I'm always anticipating the mess that will ensue once I release these two children from their shackles into a mess of school kids and attempt to get my son into his classroom.
This is where I am when greeted by my son's pre-school teachers. I am a damaged shell of myself, broken, tired and hungry for acceptance. And this is exactly where they meet me.
It's hard to find people in this world of parenting who will take you for who you are/where you are. People who won't compare you to themselves or judge you for doing it "wrong." And so ladies, I just want to say THANK YOU.
Thank you for taking care of US, all of us. Me and the boys. Every morning. For welcoming us with a smile. For welcoming my crazy toddler into your already chaotic classroom to eat your Lego's and stomp on your students masterpieces while I remember where I put my son's lunch or negotiate with him one more time about what toy he can or can not bring into the classroom.
Thank you for giving me an accepting smile. For saying, "I got you girl" without uttering a word. And that nod that says, "this is hard."
Thank you for not judging my outfit or the makeup under my eyes from three days ago or my missing permission slip or my over all absentmindedness.
Thank you for asking how I am, because not many adults do.
And thank you for accepting my son for who he is For showing me how to parent him better and for deeply caring about him because you love him and not because you have too.
Thanks for answering my text on a weekend or making yourself available when you know I need it.
Thank you for stabilizing the ground for me and for us. You were a rare find in this world I have been navigating for almost five years; which may explain why I broke down crying to my husband when talking about my son moving to kindergarten next year.
As the end of the year approaches, I try to keep focused on what is ahead and help my son to do the same. But when he tells me he's scared about next year and that he doesn't want to go... I can't say I blame him.
It is an absolute blessing to have teachers who truly care for you AND your child and if we all don't take the time to thank you -- there is a chance you'll never know.
So THANK YOU ladies... a million times over THANK YOU.
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