Monday, February 8, 2010

Snapshot of our day

I would love to own one of those toddler leashes cleverly disguised as a backpack. (Or rather NOT cleverly disguised.) I'm only half kidding. Do they come in a husky size?

Benjamin genuinely needs a nap most days of the week, but alas, afternoon preschool inhibits such nap. There are days when he passes out in the car on the way home and can then be transferred to bed if I'm lucky. So needless to say, when three o'clock rolls around and I'm there to pick him up at school, he is a *nightmare*. He falls apart the minute he sees me and turns into this terror toddler that I thought I'd never have. He runs through the hallways and refuses to hold my hand in the parking lot, which is extremely busy. I basically have to inflict pain on him because I'm holding his hand/arm so tight. He screams "NO, MY HAND" all the way to the car and makes me look like some sort of child abuser. I usually just laugh because the mere thought of people thinking that I abuse my child makes me hysterical. We are the ones who get the darted glances at a special preschool. The thought of that also makes me laugh. People with disabled children are looking at us, judging us, and are secretly grateful that they aren't in my shoes. The irony of that is just off the charts to me. (Although by definition Benjamin is disabled, we have never thought of him in that sense.)

It takes about five minutes from the time that I pick him up from his class to the time that he is safely belted in to get him back to his normal self. He's half asleep by the time I leave the street the school is on. Either that or he's so wired that he shrieks and laughs at the billboards all the way home. So this five minutes of hell getting to the car is a snapshot of our day that people see and probably expect to be my normal routine with him all day. It lead me to think about the snapshots that I witness as well throughout the day with strangers and even friends. I think we all judge snapshots a little too hastily, especially with our friends. We have even higher standards for our friends and their parenting skills than we do for strangers and we judge them way too often. It really is a constant battle for most people and if they tell you otherwise they probably aren't being honest with themselves. I think this judgment of our friends comes from disappointment in their parenting skills, but really, who are we to judge?

So, my snapshot at 3:00 has been the ultimate lesson learned that things aren't always what they seem.

3 comments:

Erica said...

I love this post Michelle. Very thoughtful and insightful!

Raven said...

Unfortunately, Watson has to remind me of this fairly often. Well said, Michelle.

Laura said...

Gosh, Michelle. You constantly amaze me. Words cannot say how proud I am of the young woman you are. I have much to learn from my middle child!