Regretting Forgetting

From the file of things I do that will never earn me a Mother of the Year award...

Each morning, I drop Erin off at preschool. Fortunately, it is not a harrowing experience, as it can be for many parents. Still, Erin has been going through a bout of separation/transition anxiety lately. Every goodbye lasts longer so she can get "one last hug and kiss". Last week, she started going to one of the windows in the preschool and waving to me as I go to the car. Awwww...

Well, everything has been crazy lately. Work has me slammed against a wall right now (long story, will share in another post). Then, of course, there was Jon's car saga from last week, so my brain is still a bit, how shall I say it? Scattered.

This morning, one my friends dropped her son off to school. I haven't seen in her a while and it was so good catching up. We chatted about a baby shower we're going to on Saturday as well as making plans for Erin and I to get together with her and her son next Tuesday (Erin is moving down to three days a week at preschool--gotta pay for that new car somehow. ;)) Anyway, I stood there chatting away and after about 10 or 15 minutes, I got in the car to leave. I got to the end of the parking lot and there it was...

The window...

Oh God...I forgot to turn to the window when I walked into the parking lot and started talking to my friend.

Erin had been waiting...

This wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that earlier this week, I was in a rush to get to an appointment and I got about halfway to the car before remembering to wave. Fortunately, I caught her while she was still there. I could hear her crying through the window as I ran up to her. I don't know how many times I said I was sorry. I managed to console her and went on to the rest of the day...

Today, though. She was gone. All I had in my mind was the image of her at the window, seeing me chatting and me not waving back.

I swung the car back into the parking lot and ran inside. I had to apologize.

When I walked into the room, one of the teacher aides looked a little surprised at first to see me, but then I got a knowing glance. "She's not here. She went to tumblebus."

"Is she ok?" I managed to get out.

"She was upset", the aide said, "but she stayed with me."

Floor, please open up and swallow me right now, I prayed silently.

Erin's teacher, Donna, assured me that she was fine. I just stood in the room, feeling like the worst mother in the world. I couldn't move and couldn't say anything.

Donna asked me if I wanted to leave Erin a note that Donna would read to her when she got back from her gym class. I mumbled something and shook my head. She gave me a piece of paper and a pencil and I sat down to write. What the hell do I say?

Through silent tears, I managed some lame ass apology for forgetting her. I told her how much I loved her and that I would pick her up early today. It felt so pointless.

I gave the note to Donna, doing the best I could to keep it together. Donna assured me that Erin was fine, and would be fine. "You wave to her all the time, Marie. Don't worry about it." She was right.

But, it was little consolation for the blown opportunity today.

I left the preschool and stood near the bus where Erin was having her class. I wanted to climb on board, scoop her up and tell her how sorry I was. I heard the kids laughing and playing and decided it was better to leave things alone and let her get on with her day and enjoy herself.

As for me, I cried all the way home.

It's a moment that she'll eventually forget, but I'm sure that I won't. The thought that I made my little girl cry like that...well...just...there are no words.

Only regrets.