Like most daycare centers/preschools, Aiden's school has a pick-up time of 6:00pm, 6:30pm the latest. The day when one of my classes ends at 4:45pm is the absolute worse. By the time I pack up my things, jet out of the room, and practically run to the subway, it's already 5:00pm.
Since we live in Brooklyn and his preschool is in Brooklyn, on those days I curse myself because I just had to go the the Ivy League graduate program that's an hour away from our house and his preschool (on a good day). On those days, I also I stress, panic, and pray that the Subway Gods are on my side and in my favor. One day last week, they weren't.
Because of some stupid "investigation" going on, all the trains that I rely on were delayed or out of service. Sigh. Once I re-routed and got to his school by 6:29pm (no kidding!), in my rush, I totally forgot to take the kid to the bathroom before we headed home. Bad mommy.
He wet his pants on the way home. Already stressed and tired from my commute, I got a tad bit upset. Yea... I said it. Right now, he doesn't have 5 uniforms for the 5 school days in the school week and the others were already dirty, which meant that I would have to wash the one he was wearing when we got home. Like I needed another thing to do that night. Sigh. Of course, I had a mini temper-tantrum in my head.
But I gave myself permission for a do-over.
I took a deep breath. Yup. Right on the corner where Aiden wet his pants then looked up at me with those "oops!" eyes, I had a "woo-sah" moment.
I paused to think things through. It's not his fault; he's only 2-years-old; I forgot to take him to the bathroom; he's been wearing his underwear and doing *so well* lately; one accident won't kill us; I can bathe him and just wash the doggone uniform when we get home.
Do-over. "Aiden, the next time you have to go the the bathroom, please let me know. Okay?" And that was that.
And when we got home, I had a couple more "do-overs" throughout the night. Hey, sometimes you need to have more than one.
When Aiden spilled his apple juice... Deep breath. Pause. Do-over!
When he became whiny and cranky because he wanted to stay in the bath longer... Deep breath. Pause. Do-over!
When he protested going to bed by trying to get me to read him a third book... do-over! Well, sort of. Instead I told him about my crazy commute on the "choo choo train," as he calls it. And he made up this extremely elaborate ending to my story, which included the conductor fixing the train and a lion coming to my rescue so that I could get to his preschool "faster, faster." Too cute! Gotta love it!
So, as I head into a new week, I'm reminding myself of three things: take a deep breath; pause to think things through; have a "do-over" if need be.