“White board erasers,” Ms. Conway clarified.
Oh, Jesus. “You think Abby’s stealing white board erasers?” Mouthy, talkative, bullying, yes, fine. All those things applied to Abby lately. But stealing? Erasers? That just didn’t make sense.
Not that I didn’t think she was capable of it… But really?
“We don’t have proof that it’s her yet. It’s just a feeling that her teacher, Mr. Hoya has. He wanted a parent-teacher conference with you, but I said I would speak with you first. I told him you would talk to Abby.”
“I will,” I assured her. “I’ll talk to her.”
“And try to be on time?”
I swallowed back the bitter pill of needing to humble myself in front of this woman I didn’t even like. Humility was never a strong characteristic of mine, but I knew that I was in the wrong here, which made it worse.
“Yes, and we’ll make a better effort to get here on time.”
She smiled patiently at me. “I make you promise to be on time, but then I’ve made you late to pick up the kids. How thoughtless of me.”
I didn’t say anything. By now Lucy’s fidgeting had gotten out of control and Jace had finally woken up and grown curious. Sleepy Jace was easy to take places. Curious Jace was about as nightmarish as any two-year-old in a space with breakable objects could be.
“Thank you, Ms. Conway,” I said on my way to my feet. “If there are any more problems, please don’t hesitate to call.”
“I’m sure we’ll speak again soon,” she replied evenly.
Meaning she expected more problems, many more problems.
I held it together as I made my escape from her office and the main office. I held it together while I dragged Lucy alongside me and balanced Jace and my purse on the other arm. I held it together long enough to pick up Abby and Blake from their teachers and classes standing in clumps along the school sidewalk. I held it together while I shoveled kids and backpacks in the car and buckled car seats and checked the older kids’ seatbelts. I held it together as I waved to other moms picking up their kids and while I waited in line to exit the lot.
I held it together for approximately five more minutes as I struggled to keep the van on the road while my mind spun and spun and my heart felt crushed inside my chest.
Finally, I had to pull over. The tears had started to fall in messy, blinding buckets and I knew it was too dangerous to continue. I found a McDonalds parking lot and slammed into an empty space in the corner of the lot. I threw the gearshift into park and dropped my forehead to the steering wheel.
I could hear the kids cry out for me from the back, but my grief had consumed me by now. I was useless. I was an empty shell. I was pathetic and helpless and so utterly lost I didn’t even know where to go.
The thought of getting my kids to school on time felt impossible. Dealing with Abby felt even worse. How could I get through to my little girl who had lost her hero? Her daddy? Her partner in crime? I knew I needed to do a better job with her, but I didn’t know how!
It felt unfair of them to expect so much of me. Didn’t they know how much I hurt? Didn’t they know that it took everything I had to get up in the morning and face the day?
This pain inside me drowned me; it tore at me every second of every day until I thought I would shatter into a million worthless pieces just from the sheer pressure of it.
I couldn’t do this.
I couldn’t.
And I didn’t know what to do about that because there was no one else to shoulder this impossible burden with me.
I was alone. And I had never been this alone before.
I just didn’t know what to do.
Little hands landed on my arms and wrapped around my neck from behind. I felt hot tears drip from my two older children and land on my shoulders and neck. I immediately unbuckled and spun around in my seat to catch them.
Abby and Blake fell on top of me, tangling in each other and me. We sobbed together, sharing the anguish and the confusion of what our lives had become.
I felt the pain more acutely as they clutched me, the one person they were supposed to be able to count on, but the one person that was letting them down in every way. At the same time I felt the pressure on my heart intensify. I also felt the comfort that came with their unconditional love and understanding.
I soaked up their hugs and tears because they were the only other people on this planet that had any kind of idea what I was going through. They were the only other people that knew how much we’d lost when their daddy died.
They might be the source of some of my current problems, but they were also the only reason I had to keep going. They were my lifelines. My hope. My reason for breathing.
“I love you guys,” I told them through a broken whisper. They whimpered and mumbled back the same sentiment.
“Why did school make you cry, Mom?” Blake blinked up at me with his extra-bright green eyes. I knew he tried to stay strong for me. I knew he tried to hold back his tears. But he was only eight. Watching him struggle to be the man of the house nearly broke me on a daily basis. But gosh, I loved this kid so much.
My chin trembled as I forced the words out. “I had a meeting with Ms. Conway.” Both kids grimaced and I laughed even as more tears fell. “We have to be on time for school from now on.”
They both nodded.
“Okay, Mama,” Abby agreed.
“I’m serious, guys. We’re going to be in big trouble if we’re late again.”
“Even you?” Abby asked.
“Even me. Especially me.”