I love my kids. I love my kids. I love my kids. I repeat that mantra as I rush home from work. Between rushing around to everything after work I never have time for myself and today was no different. Tonight was parent-teacher conferences and I already had a headache. My son, just like his father, was great at refusing to do anything besides play games. It was a struggle at home and has become a struggle at school.
His teacher, Mr. Anderson, and I have been in contact through email all semester. That should calm my nerves but I was still anxious about meeting him face to face and for him to tell me how shitty of a parent I was. I got home to find my son and his dad lounging on the couch playing games. I rushed around to make dinner and clean the house before quickly freshening up and running to the school.
I pulled into the parking lot of the school at 740. I had chosen the latest appointment time at 745 so I could manage to not have to rush around so much. I check myself in the car mirror as I take the keys out of the ignition. I had freshened up my makeup before leaving the house and still had my heels and dress on from work. I didn’t look nearly as frazzled as I felt.