Since I just know people are sitting on the edges of their seats waiting to hear all about how Cookie-gate turned out…
It turns out I blew up all over nothing.
Yep, yours truly got all wound up and frothing at the mouth over a misunderstanding. It seems that the preschool teacher got too many cookies from all the various moms last week, so she decided the class would have two parties – one last Friday before Easter and one later this week. She handed out the homemade cookies on Friday, since they weren’t sealed in packages. Thus Cassie’s cookies were ‘the wrong type of cookies.’ Because the cookies I picked up were sealed in a plastic container, Ms. D. thought they were more likely to stay fresh until next week, so she set them aside for the second party. But Cassie, being five, didn’t understand this and so that’s why she was upset. But she’s much happier now that they’ve had the second party and she’s gotten to share her cookies with the rest of her classmates.
And do I feel like a dumb-ass about all this?
Well, maybe…
I do think I’ve had more than a few bones to pick with Ms. D., and justifiably so, but this particular incident just goes to show the hazards of feeling antagonistic toward a teacher. Fortunately, I realized that there might be some sort of misunderstanding going on before Monday came around, so I made sure that Michael was the one who asked about the cookies that day instead of me, because I was still in an uproar even then. Michael’s got a much cooler head than I do, and I know this and I rely on this, which is the best proof I have that yes, I do actually have a brain. That and the fact that I took Mary’s advice to calm down and not go in with guns blazing over two packages of cookies. Good advice, by the way.
Meanwhile, this whole thing makes me realize a few things. First, I shouldn’t let previous incidents color my understanding of current goings-on between Cassie and her teachers, especially when my knowledge of current goings-on comes only from Cassie. She’s five. She’s smart. She’s honest. But she’s **five**, and she gets confused.
Second, I’m still way too stressed from the previous weeks leading up to my major mental freak-out the other week. I need to calm down. But it’s hard to do that when…
Third, I’ve quit breastfeeding and my hormones are on a rampage. My emotions are just running amok and I get pissed over every little thing still. Plus my boobs hurt and I somehow gained five pounds in one night which was really uncomfortable for a few days. The extra weight did disappear, but the hormones are still doing their freaky-ass thing, so I need to make extra sure I don’t bite off anyone’s head unnecessarily.
And finally, I need to remember that above all else, when my hormones are out of control and I’m in a bad mood, I should be extra careful when slicing onions because I just about julienned the middle finger of my left hand on Saturday night, and that’s making it rather hard to type right now.
Therefore, I’m going to bed.
