Sep 17, 2010
This morning was not pretty.
The bus came. Two burly men hopped out. The driver and the assistant.
The Baby who never cries, fears nothing and is always seriously happy begins nuclear reactor meltdown phase.
I could hear her screaming all the way down the block in the full-sized, air conditioned bus.
Oh. It. Was. Terrible.
Number of passengers? One. The Baby. Three if you count the two burly men. Seems she has a giant bus all to herself.
Within minutes the teacher phoned giddy with happiness. "WE DID IT! She's here!"
I told the teacher about the meltdown and that I'm sure The Baby has been traumatized for life. And the screaming, "mama, mama, mama." Ironically, due to difficulty with lip closure from the Cerebral Palsy The Baby has NEVER called me "mama" that I can recall. We even have a little game:
Me: Say mama!
The Baby: dada!
Me: No, not dada! Say mama!
The Baby: DADA! giggle giggle giggle
Ever notice how children stockpile "mama" weaponry and such so that they can gun you down when you are at your most vulnerable?
The teacher listened patiently and then told me The Baby stopped crying almost immediately after take off but she wants a photo of me and she will use my photo and one of the bus so she can work with her to "comfort her."
Have I ever mentioned how much I love teachers?
Have I ever mentioned how difficult parenthood is?
Posted by SECRET PEPPER PERSON: at Friday, September 17, 2010