I wonder if signing JJ up for a cooperative nursery school was a mistake.
There are so many great things about this particular school. The director and teachers are fantastic, the curriculum is wonderful, and the place is such a good fit for JJ. And I really do enjoy spending one afternoon a week working with the kids. I love observing JJ interacting with other kids, learning new things, and being challenged in ways I never thought to challenge him.
But there are definite drawbacks. We had our first “Parent Communication/Education Meeting” a couple of weeks ago. I was actually looking forward to the education component of these meetings, but the reality was an ass-numbing three hours that stretched well past my bedtime. By 9 pm, I was yawning so hard I thought my jaw would crack. Fortunately, we only meet once a month. I think I can probably handle that.
I also am having second thoughts about my school job. Slacker that I am, I chose the easiest possible job: I am a “cut-out person.” I cut out various paper shapes for projects. This requires no thought whatsoever and can be accomplished in the evenings after the children are asleep. The other jobs are so much more involved and time consuming, I have absolutely no right to complain. But I already hate it.
Last night, I was cutting out about 5,000 paper lion masks when Jack plopped down next to me with a bowl of chips and a beer. “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” I replied. “You can even help.”
“I am helping,” he said around a mouthful of guacamole. “I’m keeping you company.” Silence. “Besides, we don’t have any more scissors.”
“Yes we do.”
“I don’t know where they are.”
“I do.” Silence. “I’ll even get them for you.” More silence. “Um…hey. I got some new slutty lingerie.”
“Where did you say those scissors were?”
You think you know yourself so well. You’re a woman of absolute integrity, a woman who only gives her love selflessly.
Then you have children, and you find yourself bartering sexual favors in exchange for lion masks.
I am a shameless whore.