“Mother of the Year” Award? Not a Chance

By Amy Fulfer

There I was at the hospital with a crying, naked toddler in the middle of a fall cold snap and I could only imagine what everyone must be thinking!

Earlier that day...

I had a mile-long list of things to do, but the morning was cheerful and productive. My daughter and I ate lunch and I laid her down to nap at 2pm. It was extremely important that I time her naps just right on Thursdays. I had a Spanish4Kids class in my home from 4-5 and she needed to sleep through this class, so that she would be ready to wake up and come with me to my next class; Conversational Spanish with the Lighthouse for Learning from 5:30-7 at the high school. If she napped too early, she would also wake up too early and want to get out of bed before the children’s class was dismissed. If she napped too late, I would have to wake her up before she was ready. If she were awakened before she was ready, she would be in a foul mood for the rest of the day.

So, like I said, I laid her down at 2 o’clock. Even though she was only 1½, we had moved her to a double bed so that when her little brother arrived and took over her crib, it would, hopefully, not make her feel like displaced. She loved her big-girl bed but it gave her so much freedom that it sometimes went to her head and prevented her from settling down. She finally fell asleep at 3:30. I finished up preparations for my adult class so that I could walk out the door without delay when the children's class was over. Elyssa normally naps for 2½-3 hours. At 5:05, I woke her up. When I did, she cried like I’d told her that her puppy died. It was heartbreaking.
 

I had to take her with me. I had no choice. She cried when I put her shoes on her. She cried when I gave her a cracker. She cried when I put the rejected cracker into a Ziploc because by then she wanted it back. On the way to the truck, her juice cup fell out of her hand and that disturbed her greatly. When we got to the high school, I wrangled my box of supplies, 2 poster boards and white board in one arm and held her hand with the other. Halfway to the school, this arrangement became unsatisfactory and she wanted to be carried. I was physically unable to comply with all my stuff, so we walked the rest of the way to the school. I had to nearly drag my crying, dancing daughter. She had up stretched arms, and made plaintive pleas for love that, by all appearances, I was totally ignoring. I hoped for mothers in the small crowd of onlookers, feeling certain that they would understand my plight.

I was just on time. I needed to drop her off and run to my classroom, but Elyssa, who normally loves her class, didn't want to stay today. I tried to comfort and coax, but it was no use, and I had to go. She wrapped her little arms around my neck and held on for dear life, crying miserably! If you've never had to do it, there's no way to understand how terrible it feels to pry little hands from around your neck, disentangle yourself and walk away from your own child who is pleading with you not to abandon them. I took a deep breath, firmly put her down and walked out, her cry echoing in my ears and my heart.

After my class, I went to retrieve my little one. I was shocked to find her walking around in her diaper! Apparently she had had an explosion of poo that made her clothes unwearable. Anyone care to guess which mommy had forgotten to packed an extra change of clothes for her baby? That would be me.

I knew it was chilly when we arrived, and now that the sun had set it would be more so. I still had to carry all of my supplies back to the truck and I couldn't let her walk out naked. Since I was pregnant, I was always hot and so I didn’t have a jacket to share. I told the teacher I'd go put my stuff in the truck and see if I could find anything to wrap her in. Thankfully, my husband's pull-over was in the back seat.

Elyssa had seen me come and was devastated that I had left without her. I wrapped her up and hoped that the eyes that followed us were sympathetic to my situation. Elyssa struggled against me; she has always hated being wrapped up! I didn’t unwrap her. This produced *shock* tears.

I should have gone home. I really should have, but a friend had just had her baby the day before and I had promised to come by after class. Since I didn't have a number to call and reschedule, I decided to go ahead. Elyssa would be warm enough in her daddy's jacket.

We arrived and went in without incident. Elyssa was thrilled to see the baby. After a short visit, the nurse arrived to check temperature, blood pressure and stitches. We are friends, but not the kind of friends that stick around while childbearing stitches are being checked. We said goodnight.

By this time, Elyssa was violently rebelling against the swaddling! She pulled at her diaper tabs and kicked her legs in protest. My belly wasn't huge yet, but was big enough to make it especially hard to hold a squirming child. I shifted her to my side. Plop! Her diaper fell on the floor. There, in the hall, by the waiting room, I had to lay down and re-diaper my naked child. I rewrapped her, and trying not to make eye contact with anyone around me. I ignored her renewed complaints and made every effort to walk out the door with my head held high. I can’t imagine that even the seasoned mothers in the room might have been looking sympathetically after me.

No, there will definitely be no "Mother of the Year" award for me.