ut-o

Today, when picking up Marnie from school, I was pulled aside by one of her teachers. She needed to 'speak' to me. My stomach instantly dropped to my knees and a feeling that I have not felt in almost a decade crept into my being. Was I in trouble?

Apparently Marnie is having some issues regarding the bathroom. Her teacher, in an o-so teacherish tone informed me that after using the facilities, instead of finishing up in the usual manner, she instead removes her clothing and parades out into the classroom - shaking what her Mama gave her. Sadly that Mama is me. Why she is doing this, I have not a clue. Well, maybe I have some ideas, but they all make me feel worse.

I did not know I could feel this way at my age. I did not get in trouble with my teachers much as a kid, but when I did it destroyed me. I have never been one to handle criticism well. I would dwell for days on what was wrong with me. It makes me sad to think of it even now. After graduating however, I rejoiced in the fact I would never have to face that dread again. Of course the judgement was replaced instantly with that from employers and eventually other mothers... but none compared to that of a teacher. Perhaps it is so bad because they are invested in you. Perhaps it is because they try to care. Who knows, who cared really because I would never have to feel that way again.

Eff no.

After today's curb side discussion, I came to an absolutely horrifying realization. I am going to have to feel this make me wanna puke dread x 18 years x however many children I end up birthing. This is awful. Possibly enough for me to consider sterilization... for Troy. This possibility never crossed my mind and due to my ignorance I am now crawled up in a chair, my stomach in knots, wondering why my child is doing this and why I am such a sham of a mother.

Shit.