Her teacher then rescued me from E's hysteria, explaining that, as a very special treat, the children were all invited to wear their pajamas the following Wednesday, and that the class was going to watch a Winnie the Pooh movie. E danced around with glee, totally jazzed at the thought of wearing her pajamas to class. "PJs? To school?? That is SO FUNNY!"
Over the course of the weekend, E mentioned the pj-to-school thing at least 5 times daily. She invited her GranMary (visiting from Minnesota) to help her pick out the pair of pajamas that she would wear to class (four days later) and hemmed and hawed over which stuffed animal would accompany her. At last, Tuesday night arrived and we joyfully laid out her painstakingly chosen jammies (2 piece Pinkalicious faves) and coordinating slippers. Yesterday morning, after finally deciding that her stuffed dog, Star, would join her, I spent a good 10 minutes doing E's hair in an "extra special" style.
When the phone rang around 15 minutes after they'd left, I knew it was Nick (very few folks call at 8:35 a.m., thankfully) and wondered what tidbit he'd forgotten to share with me before they'd gone. He was calling to report that one of the other preschool moms (a "know-it-all-mother," in Nick's words) had informed him that today wasn't pajama day; next Wednesday was pajama day. And, to further illustrate the correctness of her statement, she pointed out that her own daughter was not wearing her pajamas.
I thanked him for the heads-up, but really didn't think too much of it. I remembered discussing PJ Day with E's teacher, and remembered that it took place on Wednesday. That made sense to me - there's no school tomorrow (Good Friday), and inviting the kids to come to school in their jams to watch a movie seemed like the perfect activity for a slightly off-kilter week. Still, I decided to phone the school in a bit, just to confirm.
Shortly after 9 a.m., I called and spoke to someone at the front desk, who dutifully checked with E's teacher.
Pajama Day was most decidedly not yesterday.
It will take place next Wednesday.
When I hung up, I actually felt sick to my stomach. How could I have been so blatantly wrong? How had I entirely misunderstood? Bad enough that *I* couldn't keep things straight... but knowing that poor E was sashaying through the Y in her Pinkalicious PJs because of my memory blip... Just not cool.
My forgetfulness and ADHD-ness had won. I'd done it YET AGAIN.
Then I remembered the school calendar - the one that E's teacher hands out at the beginning of each month. It has taken extreme brainpower on my part to override my ADHD tendency to magically lose every paper that my daughters bring home from school, but somehow, I've actually hung on to nearly everything that makes it into the house -- not only that, but I actually have a folder where I keep such communications... and I keep the folder in the same place, all the time!
Will wonders never cease.
Upon locating the April calendar, I scanned to next Wednesday, and my fears were confirmed: Wear Your Pajamas To School.
Written there. Plain as day.
Thing is... I'd read the calendar. I remember reading it. And yet, somehow, I'd totally missed the part about Pajama Day being next week rather than yesterday.
I posted an update on Facebook about my mistake, and to my amazing friends' (and mother's) credit, rather than being scolded or laughed at (as I'd thought would be completely appropriate), they were both incredibly sympathetic and wonderfully optimistic. E would be a trendsetter! Now she'd get to wear her pjs twice! She's the coolest kid in school!
And? They were right, of course. E didn't even think twice about wearing her pajamas on a non-pajama day, and she's doubly psyched to do it again. (I also tried to remind myself that being the only kid IN pajamas is pretty awesome when you're four, but to have been the only child NOT in pajamas would have been devastating). All was just fine, despite my error.
But incidents like these make me pause every time, because I know -- I dread -- that someday, it will matter, and the resolution will not be nearly so easy. Someday, my ADHD forgetfulness and impulsivity and lack of attention to detail will cause one or both of my kids to get screwed over. They'll be late to their best friend's birthday party, or they'll be the only one wearing a grass skirt (for Luau Day!) on the day that is actually Western Day, when the rest of the class is in ten-gallon hats and chaps. They'll be embarrassed for themselves and, I'm sure, of me.
Or it could be so much worse. I could forget a passport and one of the girls might miss out on the class trip to France. Maybe I'll neglect to update them on their immunizations, and someone will get horribly ill. I constantly fear that, somehow, my forgetfulness will cause them physical harm, and all I'll be able to do is stand there open-mouthed saying, "But I really thought it was today, not next week."
Now, I know that these incidents can - and do - happen to everyone. And I certainly know that never in the entire history of the world has a child made it to adulthood without feeling embarrassed by his or her parents. So I realize that part of this is just what comes along with, you know, life.
As a mother, ADHD moments like these are particularly fun because I get to feel like such a failure, like such a freak. Shouldn't I be able to get it right? Shouldn't my girls be able to rely on Mommy to remember these sorts of things? Isn't that part of the job description: Able to Correctly Read Class Calendar and Dress Child in Pajama-Wear on Appropriate Date...?
I also worry about what the other moms will think of me, that I'm becoming That Mom -- you know, the one everyone smiles at but secretly snickers over the instant she drops out of view (or drops her kid's art project on the floor). While I don't really care for myself what the other moms think of me, I do care for my kids what they think of me. Childhood is hard enough without my girls being potentially blacklisted because their Mommy is... Unreliable. Forgetful. Strange.
As of today, thankfully, I don't seem to have been entirely written off. The kids have playdates and friends, even though I leave their coats behind and have to rummage through my purse for 27 seconds just to locate my wallet.
And the Non-Pajama Pajama Day didn't turn out as bad as I thought it would. In fact, E didn't think I was the worst mom in the class.
She thought I was one of the best.
Sometimes? ADHD isn't all bad.
(Side note: when I picked E up yesterday, I quickly noticed that at least 4 other children also had on their pajamas. Her teacher reminded me that pajama day was next week [I told her that we were so excited, we wanted to do it twice!]... but then she also apologized for giving everyone the wrong date last week.
NOT ENTIRELY MY FAULT AFTER ALL.
I knew it all along. ;o) )
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