Today was Meet the Teacher day at Riley, Quinn and Tess’ preschool. All summer, the big girls have been going to camp 3 days a week (just for a few hours in the morning). Camp ended a few weeks ago, and it’s been hard for us to not be in more of a regular routine. I know that there are mom’s out there who want to be with their children all the time and don’t send their kid’s to preschool until the last second, but that’s just not me. They need a break from me, I need a break from them. That is just what works for us. The last three weeks have been hard for me, and I’m so ready for preschool to start. We’ve decided to put our twin girls in separate classes, which may not seem like a big deal, but was an agonizing decision for us. I’ve been having so much anxiety about how it’s going to go, and one of the girls has been having anxiety about it too, which is heartbreaking. Anyway, I knew that today was going to be overwhelming. I had all three girls, and we had 4 classrooms to go to, 8 teachers to meet, a million events for me to sign up to volunteer for and a tired baby. Miles offered to go with me, but I don’t want to have to have him help me in situations like this. I want to be able to go to something like Meet the Teacher day by myself like every other mom.
Anyway, on the way there, one of the big girls started panicking because she’s been having a hard time with the whole separate class thing. I was running about 10 minutes late, which ended up being a blessing, because there were no other parents in the classroom when I CRIED (yes me, I CRIED, not my 3 small children, ME) to the teacher about separating their girls and our reasons for making that decision. They definitely must think I’m cray. Then we walked to the next class where there were 8 million kids playing, I lost a child for 2 minutes in the chaos, then had to fill out paperwork while my baby spit up on a teacher that was nice enough to hold her. The next classroom, the big girls got into an epic fight and were wrestling each other to the ground over a tiny elephant (a full on beat down), while the baby was throwing 40 mini water bottles on the floor (and I was trying to clean them up without her escaping the classroom), and I was literally sweating so much it was dripping on the floor. I’ve literally never been such a shitshow in my whole life. I felt like everyone around me felt sorry for me (which I hate). My sister described it perfectly “when you lose a whole year of your life in the matter of a few hours.” As we were leaving, I let them sit on a bench and eat some popcorn before we went home, and I took this picture.
Is this not the cutest “Meet the Teacher Day” picture ever? I laughed as I posted it on Instagram, because I knew what the last 2 hours were really like, but that picture sure made it look like it was a breeze. Instagram is a highlight reel, not real life. I use Chatbooks (if you don’t know about Chatbook, look it up immediately), and our baby books are generated from Insta. I’m using it as a tool to document my children’s lives, so I’m posting the cuteness, not the day to day struggles. Saw this again recently (on Instagram), and it’s just too perfect!