Bad Mommy

As I've previously mentioned, I've been working the two jobs since November so as not to have a lapse in my health insurance and to adequately train my replacement at the hellhole. I'd intended to stick it out through Christmas season out of courtesy to my employer, but yesterday's incident was the final nail in the hellhole coffin.

Middle Child, who is autistic, came home from school with a note from his teacher:

"Dear Mrs. K: Middle Child came to school this morning with holes in his shoes, and wet socks. He needs new shoes. Let us know if we can help."

It had been so chaotic that morning, and my husband and I were both so tired and distracted (we've both been pulling long hours) that we didn't notice when the poor kid put on sneakers that had holes in them.

I sent my autistic 5 year old to school with holes in his shoes, in the middle of December. I am an asshole.

I went nuts. I cried for hours. What kind of a mother AM I if I can't even send my child to school adequately clothed? His teachers think he's a welfare kid and it's all because I was too tired to notice what he was wearing. He couldn't TELL us that his shoes were ripped because he doesn't talk. How fucking tragic is THAT? Just the thought of one of my babies being cold or wet or uncomfortable for one MINUTE because of ME makes me physically ill. I decided at that point that I was all done with the 60 hour weeks.

As soon as the husband got home, I tore ass to Marshall's. I proceeded to rifle through the racks like a madwoman; not only was my baby getting new shoes, but he was getting jeans and t shirts and a new jacket as well. MY child is NOT going to be branded the poor kid whose parents don't take care of him, oh no...he's going to be a PIMP when he gets on that short bus in the morning.

Stride Rite shoes with lights in the heels (and REAL LACES, fuckers, none of this lazy ass velcro shit, I pledge to lovingly tie his shoes in double knots EVERY SINGLE DAY)...brand name jeans (Faded Glory will simply not do)...overpriced t-shirts with humorous euphemisms on them...all of it flew into the cart in my guilt-induced frenzy.

Finally, it was on to the outerwear section. A big puffy jacket for my baby, and nothing less! I found nothing but flat ones, and I was getting pissy. Now, I know logically that the insulating material that is used in winter jackets these days is much more lightweight and compact than it once was, but in my mind, Puffy Jacket = Your mommy loves you and spent a lot of money to keep you warm. The world will know that my baby is well taken care of. I left in disgust and headed to Sears, where they had all the puffy jackets my little heart desired. I sprang the extra 10 bucks for the zip-out liner (more evidence that mommy loves him) and was on my way. I came home, put him to bed, and went to the hellhole to resign.

I blurted the whole thing out to both of my male bosses...bad mother...my baby had holes in his shoes...welfare kid...too busy to notice...couldn't stand being a bad mommy for another second...blah blah blah (*snort*sob*). Men don't like having crying women in their offices, so they hastily told me that it was perfectly fine and that I was making a good decision. They were very supportive and even said they'd take me back in a second if I get screwed for a permanent teaching job next year. I talk a lot of shit about that place, but the people I worked for are generally pretty cool. I filled out my separation paperwork, cleaned out my drawer, said my goodbyes and walked out, hopefully for good. I went home and had the best night's sleep I think I've had in two years.

Anyway, Middle Child left the house this morning in full winter gear and brand new sneakers with double knots. Good Mommy in 'da house, beeyatch! I'll be goddamned if I ever let anything interfere with my mommy duties ever again. Lesson learned.