The Epic Fails of Crap Mom

And now for a wonderful new feature. . .

The amazing adventures of our latest superhero, Crap Mom!

So Spirited's last piano class was today.  He's missed a couple piano classes already because I, Crap Mom, signed him up for a class in September that is practically impossible:  Saturday at 10am.  I realize normal people don't have a problem getting to a 10am class even when they live 35 minutes away, but I do.  Partly, this is because I teach all day Fridays and am tired and want to sleep in.  Since I want to sleep in anyway, if it looks like snow, which makes me nervous anyway since I'm anxiety-ridden about driving (though getting better), I just don't take him.  See?  Crap Mom.

Well, every normal person realizes that the last class is a recital, right?  Not our Crap Mom.  Because she didn't bother to call even though she is supposed to when missing a class.  So we turned up thinking we were early, but it turned out they were practicing for the recital beginning at 10:30.  Who knows what time they were supposed to get there?  (Not our Crap Mom!)

So he went with his class and I went to the recital hall and sat, sending Husband updates about the whole thing.  (We try to make sure neither of us misses a recital, but I wasn't going to tell him to jump in the car.)  I was a bit weepy when I saw the dancers and the choir (both things I had done for at least three years as a kid -- and that Spirited shows zero interest in).  Then the piano class was up.  Where's Spirited?  Am I not able to recognize my own kid?  Usually I can pick him out of any crowd in an instant.  Where's Spirited?  Is that the entire piano class?  Aren't there two that should be performing?  Maybe they're doing two groups of piano.  Where's my kid?  Is there another group coming out?  No, Strings is up next.  Where's Spirited?  Did he have a meltdown backstage?  While I've never known him to melt down in public (he saves his most dramatic emoting for home, where he can stomp and scream and slam and throw his toys), isn't finding out that you're supposed to be performing and not knowing what you're doing a recurring nightmare for many?  Maybe he freaked out.  Where is he?   

Too worried about what happened to Spirited to care too much that I was being incredibly rude by not watching the rest of the recital, I got up with all my stuff (including the grading that I couldn't get to because I was watching the recital rather than waiting outside his class) and went in search of him.  He was fine, running around in a big room where the kids hung out before they went on stage.  He got playing with a friend of his from another class that he knew from his Montessori school and just didn't pay attention to when he was supposed to be performing.  He was upset and wanted to cry but didn't.  He told me later that this was the worst Saturday of his whole life.  We went to Starbucks for a coffee (for Crap Mom) and pumpkin bread (for Spirited).

Sigh.  Lesson learned:  always call when Spirited misses a class.  It may be fine for me to be lackadaisical about classes I take, but:  Don't fuck up where your kid is concerned.

Stay tuned for further adventures of. . .Crap Mom!