I got the “you’re-a-shitty-mom” pass at Humberto’s school last week. We were running late, like super late, and I didn’t make it in time to drop him off at the car line, so I had to go inside the school and sign him in. I don’t know how this works at other elementary schools, but at his school you’re required to scan your driver license at a computer kiosk and take a picture so they can print a visitor sticker with your face on it.
It’s the first time he’s been late since the school year started. I’d say that’s not too bad. Plus, he was only two minutes late! Two! Anyway, did you know they actually ask you for a reason for being late? They really do. I didn’t even know what to select when that question popped up on the screen. I kind of laughed when I was filling out this tardy questionnaire and selected ‘slept late’ for the reason. We didn’t even sleep in. I don’t even know why we were late but, I digress. The secretary at the front desk prints out the visitors pass. Usually it’s a sticker with my face on it that reads VISITOR. This time she handed me a little pink paper that read Late Pass AKA the you’re-a-sh*tty-mom-that-can’t-get-her-kid-on-time-to-school pass.
I grabbed the pass and ran down the hallway to drop him off at his class. Of course, the whole time I’m blaming myself (because it really was my fault) and feeling so bad that he’s late. I still had to rush to drop off Becca at day care. Yes, this whole time I’m hauling Becca around on my hip, sweating my butt off.
Needless to say it was a crazy day week for me. I went to church this past Sunday to listen to the pastor’s message and maybe or maybe not to be without the kids for about an hour. The church I go to has age-specific classes for the kids, so it’s pretty cool that they get to go church, too, and I get to listen to the sermon in peace. Yes, I said it. In peace. Anyway, I dropped off the kids and Humberto was ok. He’s always ok when I drop him off. I love it. He’s so independent and just a good kid altogether. Now, Becca? I always have trouble dropping off Becca. She’s so attached to me. I love and hate it at the same time. Of course, she screamed bloody murder when I handed her over to the volunteer that watches them. I told her she’d be fine as soon as I left. She usually is.
About 15 minutes into the service I see “Would the parents of Rebecca Navarro please report back to the class.” I blinked a few time and was kind of thrown off guard. I didn’t expect to see that on the screen. I laughed and whispered, “oh my God,” under my breath. I guess they tried texting me. Since I was listening to the sermon, I didn’t read the text so they flashed the message on the screen so I could go get my crying child. It’s funny when I think about it. That little girl is going to do something big with her life. I just know it.
As if things couldn’t get any crazier, they did. We went to the mall after church. I, of course, forgot the stroller. I was chasing after Becca most of the time; I was trying not to lose her and my mind at the same time. Luckily my friend, Vivi, came with us so I had help. We were shopping for clothes to wear to my niece’s quinceañera. I found something to wear for Humberto and myself. Haven’t had any luck for Becca’s clothes.
When I finally got home, I parked in the driveway and as I opened the door to get out of the Jeep I
could hear one of the dogs breathing heavily. I could hear that he was close by. Sure enough Biggy and Frank had dug a hole in the back yard and Swarley and Biggy managed to get out. Swarley was the one by the Jeep. I put him in the house and went on my way to find Biggy. I called my husband to ask him to check the Next Door app and see if anyone found him. Sure enough a nice man that lives on our street found him at the entrance of the subdivision. I called him and went to pick him up. Biggy was dirty AF. I'm sure it was from all the digging. Anyway, the man apparently found another dog and is still waiting for the owners to claim him. I think. I say I think because he asked if I wanted another dog. Umm, no sir. I do not. My life is crazy as is.
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