As the mom behind True Mom Confessions, I commit and admit to regular parental misdemeanors. I also immerse myself daily in the confessions of others -- so most of the time I keep things in perspective and don't feel so alone, guilty or crazy for my missteps. But yesterday, I crossed the line - and all the me too's in the world weren't going to make me feel any better: I forgot to attend my son's violin recital at school.
Not sure how this happened really. The event was clear as day in my calendar: OWEN'S RECITAL: 1:15. But somehow it didn't make it onto my to do list for the day. And for me - if it's not on the list, it might as well not be happening. So when my son called me from grandma's car after school (she picks up on Mondays) and said "Mom, Why weren't you there?" I was stunned. That numb feeling quickly morphed into shock and then sadness - for my son and for me. I felt my face go hot and red and while sitting in front of my colleague the tears fell like a leaky faucet and I thought to myself: this is it, this is the event that's going to have him on the couch trying to get to the root of his abandonment issues.
I responded honestly - perhaps too honestly, my voice cracking, "Oh. My. God. I am so sorry Owen. I forgot. I dont' know how I could have. But I forgot."
He mumbled a few things including, "You always forget" and I stammered, " No I don't. You know that's not true. I am sooooo sorry."
We met at the park just a few minutes later and I ran across the baseball field to where he was warming up for his little league game. I knelt down to eye level and still weepy, said my most sincere apology. My emotions definitely confused him and he wriggled away from me. "It's ok mom."
But it didnt' feel ok. I can forget snack. Or a sweater. Or a teacher's birthday. But the image of my little man with his violin perched on his shoulder, squeaking out twinkle twinkle little star while scanning the room for his mom just about killed me. To make matters worse, last night Owen woke up with a night terror. He's suffered from these odd, spooky nightmares for years -- the ones where despite me holding him tight, he screams, "mommmy!!! Help me! I need my mommy!!!" The tears fell again and I sat in silence rocking him, whispering in his ear and hoping he might hear me, "It's ok baby. Mommy's here. Mommy is so sorry. Mommy will do better tomorrow."
That tomorrow is today and I will try to do better. Wish me luck.
