Just when I think I got it going on...

Dear Ryan,

It's a hard lesson to learn, son, that you don't get to pick your family.  You are stuck with us.  You are stuck with me.

I'm sorry.

I didn't forget you at school because I don't love you.

I don't call you the wrong name all the time because I don't love you.

You don't get lost in the shuffle because I don't love you.

These things happen because I am just a mere mortal.  I do the best I can by all of you, and sometimes that means I fall short of one of you.  Please don't take it personally.

Afterall, I wouldn't call you Sugar if you weren't special.

Love, Mom

I did it again.  I did something stupid, and poor Ryan was on the receiving end of it.

I can barely keep track of all the homework around here.  For the most part, they do it, they are responsible, and I sign what I need to sign; help when I need to help. 

Yet last week, I forgot to fill in the Reading Log and Ryan got to spend time in the quiet room, not at an extra recess.

And this morning, the phone rang.  It was Ryan's teacher, wondering about "what am I supposed to do with Ryan's egg creation?"

"It's all wrapped up, and ready to be thrown off the roof."

"No, no," she giggled, "we're doing that next week or the week after.  This week it was the egg creation, where they decorate an egg or egg carton, and we're sharing them with the whole first grade, going from room to room."

Oy.  Oops.  I realized then that I'd only glanced at the homework sheet, and didn't read the entire page.  Based on my experience with the two older kids, I saw "egg creation" read no further, and assumed it was the project where we wrap it up and try to make it be stable enough not to break (they throw the egg off the roof).  Mr W and Ryan worked on it last night, and Mr W didn't read it either, he just did what I told him to do.

"Oops.  Guess I've had too many kids go through first grade, huh, that I didn't look more closely at that.  I'm sorry, I feel like an idiot."  She said it was okay, and we laughed about it, and then I spoke to Ryan.

I don't think he was moved by my apology.  I told him we could do the actual thing over the weekend, and he could take it on Monday.  His teacher said he could share it then.

"That's okay, I can do it myself," he replied.

It appears Mommy is in the doghouse. 

I called Mr W and wanted him to share the blame, but I know it's all me, he knows it's all me, and he said, "Thaaat explains why Ryan wanted to decorate it."  "Yeah, and I didn't even read it, so I thought..."  And he added the "deedidee"-Carlos-Mencia-'you're a dumbass' noise for effect.

You know how people talk about how their younger siblings had it soooo easy, and got away with murder?

It's all about the guilt, people.  By the time the younger siblings roll around, the parents have messed up more, and they have to make up for it somehow.  

Guess I should start saving for his car now.