A little over two months ago,
I wrote a post about the politics of respectability and how it related to picture day in my house.
What I never came back to say was that the pictures actually came out horrible.
I know, I know. How could that be? The one I took it home before school was super cute, right?
Pardon me for a moment while I laugh and laugh.
Basically, after all of that reflection I did in October, I had to go through the same multitude of emotions and primping so that I could prepare her again, today, to do retakes.
What makes it worse, and proves to me that I still haven't learned the lesson, is that the entire process has been a cluster eff of the highest magnitude. Any one of these things would have been reason enough to just say to myself that it wasn't worth it and that I needed to just chill about the whole thing.
First, our local weather was such that the schools started on a two hour delay today, throwing everyone's schedule off.
I could lie and say that I decided to drop Playette off to school out of concern for her safety, but that wouldn't be true.
In my mind, I would take her, ask her to smile pretty, and 30 seconds later she would be on the way to class with nary a disruption.
Of course that isn't what happened.
Even though we had about five hours to get ready for school this morning, it was still crazy getting both kids out of the door. I couldn't find the bus dispatcher's number. I was googling and calling and texting, trying to give notice that I planned to take her in myself. Then, I got to the school only to find that everyone else was driving their kids in, too. Or, maybe it's always like that in the morning. I don't know. I like the bus.
Anyway.
Got the kids inside the school, got a visitor sticker, and walked Playette to her classroom. By this time, the school day had started.
I am now officially creating a huge distraction because I have a baby with me. There are many squeals of "Baby Dez!" And "Hey, that's [Playette's] mommy!"
Oops.
Not what I had in mind.
We hustled to the media center only to find out that the photographers were about 45 minutes away from being ready to start taking pictures.
Oh, but I'm no quitter. Did I take my toddler home and just hope for the best? Of course not!
Instead, I cried on the inside, knowing that between that moment and noon would be when Playette would have lunch. I also cursed myself for packing chocolate milk.
I left her in her aide's capable hands and went off to run errands with Dez to kill time.
This would've been the perfect time to say, "You know, Crittle, it's going to be fine. You really don't need to keep this up. You have plenty of other things you could be doing."
But, noooo.
I went back. Got another visitor sticker. Went back to her classroom. Caused another commotion. Smiled weakly and apologetically to her teacher. Went to the media center. Cut the line. Felt extremely embarrassed when they snapped about 20 pictures and none of them had her looking at the camera. Felt the heat rising in my face. Mumbled "Number 24 is fine. Thanks." when it really wasn't. Grabbed my kid. Thanked all of the other children for sharing their naughty elf stories with me while we waited. Dropped Playette off at PE.
And then I let the office ladies know that I would see them soon because I have to go up there for a third time in a shortened day to pick her up for an appointment after school.
See? Easy peasy.
[Insert massive eye roll here]
Side note: A friend reminded me earlier today about my own retake story. I'll come back and write about that because it is utterly ridiculous. I've been a nut since I was a kid, apparently.