A couple of days ago, I went to read to S's kindergarten class. I was really excited about it; the teacher had asked for volunteers a few weeks ago. It was set up as a surprise, and I was the first of the readers to participate.
Colds have been running through our house the last few weeks as their wont to do this time of year, but nothing serious since the crazy strep throat incident awhile ago. Of course, the sniffly noses and coughs seem to last forever. S was playing outside in the leaves on Monday as it was 70 degrees out (not bad for December 3rd in the midwest), so she was coughing a lot more that night. So much that it kept us both up even after a does of Robitussin and a Halls cough drop.
Tuesday morning, she didn't want to go to school. I didn't want to tell her why she needed to go and ruin the surprise, so I tried to encourage her in other ways. She wasn't terribly sick, but she hadn't slept much and she was still coughing so much that it really was a major distraction. I told her I couldn't stay home from work, she'd have to go to daycare if she didn't go to school. That's usually enough to convince her to go; she really likes school. But it didn't do the trick. I told her she would be upset if she missed that day because there was a surprise mystery reader coming to her class. I put off telling her it was me until we were halfway to daycare, hoping she'd change her mind, but it didn't happen. Then when I told her it was me, she just said, "Oh." Like it was no big deal. I was disappointed. In a big way.
It's not her fault. I thought she would be really excited about it, and I'm sure if she had gone to school like usual, and I had showed up, she would have loved it. But it didn't happen that way. I still went. I read "What's Wrong Little Pookie?" by Sandra Boynton. The kids really enjoyed it. They asked me to read it again. It was fun, but I was really sad that S wasn't there for it.
On my way to work that morning, the DJ was talking about how they had taken a photo of her 3-month-old in her Christmas stocking which was their traditional first Christmas photo with the babies in their family. I thought, "We should be doing that. A first Christmas photo this year. But we're not." And the tears came.
The one day I wore mascara to work (since I had to read later, I had put makeup on and tried to look nice), and I was crying. Part of it was due to the lack of sleep. Part of it was due to the disappointment with S. And part of it was missing my baby. Weird to think it's been almost a year since I wrapped up the little stick and left it on DH's pillow for Christmas. It feels like eons ago.