How I won the Worst Mother of the Year award.

This picture is unrelated, but appropriate.

When Sam and I slept in on that fateful Friday morning, we thought we deserved it. We had a late meeting the night before, and after a hectic week, we needed the catch-up time. Thus it was that I dragged myself out of bed ten minutes before we had to leave to take Seara to school. The boys threw on slippers and climbed in the car, while I got Seara pretty, threw together a lunch, and made her peanut butter toast for breakfast in the car. Carbs and protein, right? The perfect on-the-go breakfast, right? Sigh.

Well we were late, I was stressed, and Seara was grumpy. So I pretty much verbally forced her to eat the toast, completely against her will. But she needed the energy for school, right?! I dropped her off, and decided that before I went home to shower, I'd stop by my mom's and get everything ready for the Baker Cousins Party I was throwing at her house that night. For the next two hours I was in the hot sun cleaning off chairs and tables, moving a thousand-ton trampoline halfway across the enormous yard, and generally getting things ready. I was hot, sweaty, and I could smell myself.  And it wasn't soap or perfume, I promise you that.

In the midst of all this, I received a phone call.

me: Hello?
secretary: Is this Janae?
me: Yes.
phone: This is the elementary school. We've got Seara here in the office, and it appears she is sick.
me: Real sick or pretend sick?
secretary: Well, we're not very good at determining that. Could you come by the school?
me: Um...sure. I'll be there in couple minutes.

Now, you need to know that Seara's school is only a few minutes away from my mom's house.  But it is 30 minutes away from my own (long story, I'll explain another day). So for me to get home and get ready would take well over an hour. I didn't have time. This is bad because I happened to look awful. My hair was completely unkempt, and I didn't even have a pony to pull the mane out of the way. My face was splotchy because I had looked too closely for too long in the mirror the night before (you know what I did). I was wearing pjs, and lacked a certain item that all women should wear outside the home. And, worst of all, as I had left the house that morning, I accidentally put on two different shoes. I realized it as I ran to the car, but I didn't expect anyone to actually see my feet.  Pretty much, I looked awesome.

I drove up to Seara's school, parked right in front of the big glass doors that lead straight to the office, and hesitated. I looked back at my boys and assessed the situation. Elijah was in really old hand-me-down pjs and slippers that looked awful three years ago. Enoch was wearing a ghetto t-shirt and undies, with slippers that had several holes. Their hair looked equally bedhead-esque. I looked awful enough, I couldn't bear to bring them in with me. This was only going to take a second right? I could see the car from the hallway outside the office. I'd run in, grab Seara, and be back in a minute. "Okay, boys, I'll be right back. You stay here." And off I walked quickly. (I was going to run, but there were a couple people outside and I at this point my pride was in serious question. I wanted to maintain as much as I possibly could.)

As luck would have it, all three secretaries and the principal happened to be right there in the office to greet me as I walked in. Mismatched shoes and all. Yay. Seara was putting on a pretty good sick show, and after chatting with her for a minute, I decided I'd just take her home. Where's your backpack? Oh, back in your classroom halfway across the school?  Double yay.  So off we went across the school. Seara skipping the whole way.  Obviously she is really, really sick. Well, it happened to be my extra lucky day, because there in the hallway outside her classroom stood her teacher and her entire class. Hello, kids. Yes, it is amazing that such a cute little girl came from this unkempt homeless lady with two different shoes on!

teacher: Are you Seara's mom?
me: [desperately wanting to lie] Yes.
teacher: Well, let me tell you what happened.

Off she goes, telling me her story. Seara flopped around her chair all morning, refused to work, and spent most the time panting with her tongue stuck out, occasionally making herself gag. The teacher finally asked her if she was okay. "I'm allergic to peanuts," Seara told her, "and I ate them this morning. I can't breathe." Of course, the teacher panics! She ran to her phone and called the office, explaining that she may need an epipen shot or ambulance, and could they please check Seara's record? Well, the office comes back and says that Seara is, in fact, not allergic to peanuts. So then Seara really turns on the gagging, and the poor panicked teacher is sure she's not going to make it to the bathroom, so she whisked Seara up, and ran into the hallway to the nearest trash can. While the teacher holds Seara over the garbage, Seara sticks her finger down her throat and makes herself throw up.  The teacher presumes that this whole thing is a show, but she can't take any more, so she sends Seara to the office.

There I stand, hearing this whole story, not sure if I should be more humiliated by the way I look (and my mismatched shoes), or by my daughter's behavior. Just as the teacher wraps up her story by telling me that she thinks I should leave Seara at school, I turn to see one of the secretaries running in a panic down the hallway.

secretary: Do you have two boys in your car?
me: [AHHHHHH!!] Um, yes. I was just about to go check on them. Like right now. This instant.
secretary: Oh, I'm so glad they are yours! We had a woman come in worried, and I assured her they were yours.
me: Yeah, they are. Mine. [Oh, hi, Seara's teacher. I'm a complete idiot of a mother. Glad you're here to witness this.]
teacher: Well, I'm going to go take care of my class.
me: Okay, yeah, I'll just go check on my boys. I'm going to take Seara with me for a second.

As I get to the car, I see Elijah's door wide open. "A lady told me to keep the door open so we don't get too hot," he tells me. Oh goodie.

So there I proceed to tell Seara about the boy who cried wolf. But apparently I'm too good of a story teller, because all my kids were really into it, and they thought this boy was a comedic genius. Due to that unfortunate fact, I decided to end the story in the Brother's Grimm way, rather than the nice way. Then my kids were horrified. Yay. Again. I made Seara promise to do her work even if she felt poorly, and not to pretend to be sick ever again. Then I checked her back into school, and went home.

And that, my dear readers, is how I won this year's Worst Mother of the Year award.



Epilogue: It turned out Seara had heard the word allergic, but did not know what it meant, that she had peanut butter stuck in her dry throat and was having a hard time breathing, and that all she needed was a drink. She also got the flu within 12 hours, and was probably feeling the edge of sickness at school. Oops.