When your mom is a dumba**

In case the title wasn’t warning enough, I’m going to use the word dumba** in this post because that’s the way I talk in real life. If you’re offended by words like dumba**, this probably isn’t the day for you. I’ll see you tomorrow.

I wish that I could blame this morning on lack of sleep, or sick children, or a wild weekend in Cabo…I can’t. This just is what it was.

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Thank goodness I checked the calendar on my phone last night, or I would have totally missed my eldest son’s orthodontic appointment at 9:00 this morning. It’s weird that I checked it, because that’s forethought which is extraordinarily unlike me, but I did so I didn’t panic this morning.

I was up at 6:00 when I saw him stagger out of his room, so I whispered “You have an orthodontist appointment at 9:00. Go back to bed.” He flashed me a thumbs-up sign and turned back towards his room.

Sometime after 8:00, I saw him again. He was tying his uniform tie while also juggling his shoes. (He’s very talented.) He grinned at me with  the well-rested look that I usually only see on the weekends, and said, “This is the one thing I miss about homeschooling. I love it when I can sleep until I’m done.”

As we backed out of the driveway for the 5 minute drive to the dental office, he was chattering away about the things he was learning in Chinese and amazing me with his linguistic skills.

When we pulled into the parking lot, I told him to go in ahead of me. I wanted to let my phone charge up a little more before going inside.

It wasn’t long before he came back out of the office with a frown on his face. “Mom, they need to talk to you inside.”

The front desk staff met me with puzzled frowns. “Mrs Frech, why are you here today?”

I flipped my phone calendar around and showed them the notation “D ortho 9 am”

The office lady shook her head. “Tomorrow. His appointment is at 9 tomorrow.”

Crap. (In the interest of honesty and full disclosure. This is not the first time this has happened to me at the orthodontist. It’s not even the second…)

I apologized profusely for the mix up and went back to the car, already mentally composing the “please excuse my son…” note in my head. That’s what I miss most about homeschooling. When I mess up now, people know.

As we got to the school parking lot, I asked him for a pen and a piece of paper. I’m a writer. I can do this. (That’s what I kept telling myself. I wasn’t convinced.)

“Please excise (my son) for his tardiness this morning….” and then I stopped.

“How do I write ‘please excuse my son for being late because his mom is a dumba**’?” I asked out loud.

He had no answers, so I began writing it again and again. It was the honest excuse, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted the fact that I was a dumba** to be a part of his permanent record.

Finally, I gave up and went inside.

“Hi,” I said matter-of-factly to the office lady. “I need to drop my son off and give you some kind of excuse, but I’m not sure what to write. I kept him home for an orthodontic appointment that it turns out is tomorrow. By the way, he’ll be late tomorrow too. I just don’t know how to write down ‘his mom is a dumbass who can’t use a phone calendar’ without it sounding like I’m actually a dumba**…although I’m beginning to think that maybe I am.”

God bless her, she laughed.

“Just write down he was late for a family emergency and leave a phone number in case the principal has more questions.”

“Family emergency?” I asked her. “You really think this qualifies as a family emergency?”

“Sure,” she answered. “If your mom is a dumba**, it’s kind of an emergency.”

True enough.