It's official. I am a horrid mother.
I thought - if you got things out there, it made you feel better. Communicate and all that. Not so much.
Last week (I think) I brought L in the for the first time in a few days possibly weeks because I've been traveling. As I was putting her lunch bag away in the refrigerator I heard the teacher say, "Oh L, are you staying with Mommy this week?"
I didn't really connect until I was in the car, and what was I supposed to do? Go back in, pop my head in the class and say what?
"Um excuse me, it's me, Kate. I just want to clarify we're actually happily married. Sure we travel all the dang time, and while our plan was to move so that this wouldn't be the issue and it has in fact been compounded and worse than it has ever been... but anyway. The best laid plans.... anyway so we are happily married. FYI. OK - by L see you later, love you! Bye!"
But I could have been mistaken. Right?
Yesterday, it was confirmed yesterday.
When I went to pick up L and found a poster on the cork board with the question:
"Do I have a house and who lives in it?"
EACH and every kid in the class is listed with their answer. Well each and every kid...with the exception of L.
Think I'm making this up?
Yup. That's right. I took a picture of it - to show you I wasn't crazy. It's really blurry because I was sneaking it but you get the idea. Either she has no idea who she lives with or they didn't want to ask her? I don't know.
Just call me Kate. Looking forward to the contract negotiations, lipo, and the paparazzi. I love those bastards.