Today, Sam's preschool conducted fall semester parent/teacher conferences. Now, I'm of two minds about this. On the one hand, there's a part of me that thinks "Holy Shit! The kid is two! Will he NEVER have the opportunity to act completely feral without someone tattling to his Mommy?" But on the other hand, I live with Captain Chaos, and, as his mother, and being a proponent of rearing civilized offspring, am absolutely dying for someone to tattle on him and tell me how he behaves the two mornings of the week when I'm not with him and haven't the first clue how he behaves.
Apparently, I have given birth to a mini-Dr. Jekyll. No, his preschool teachers said, he's never climbed on anything. And no, he shares beautifully with the other children. And naturally, they've never seen my child tantrum, or fail to follow directions. Heaven's no. He happily cleans up his toys, stands in line, washes his hands, eats his snack.
This, mind you, would be the same child that, just yesterday, imagined that his bowl of popcorn was a train-crushing avalanche, which was quickly followed by a freak blizzard (in the vacinity of his baby brother), who weathered the erupting incliment weather, thanks to his ever-helpful brother, by donning the now-empty popcorn bowl as a hat.
I think I speak for mothers everywhere when I say WHY THE HELL ME??? Why do I have to be the one whose limits he tests? Why does it have to be while I'm on the phone that he scales five foot dressers, demolishes his room, or plays hide and go seek with a bottle of Tylenol? Is it too much to ask that Sam behave like the little gentleman I send to school at home with me too?
It is truly unfair.