I forgot to take my daughter to ballet class this week.
I didn’t run out of time, or schedule something at the same time. I just plain old forgot.
I remembered the next morning, as I was getting Nora dressed for school. For some reason, ballet class popped into my head, and my brain asked, innocently enough, “Oh, is that tonight?”
Then, panicky alarm bells.
“NO, dummy,” my brain said to itself. “It was last night. AND YOU MISSED IT.”
Luckily, all of this talking was inside my head. Outwardly, I managed to express the shock of remembering that big something I’d forgotten with only a bit of a gasp.
“What’s wrong, Mama?” Nora asked. (You can’t sneak anything past her.)
“Oh nothing, sweetie. Which shirt do you want to wear today?”
Missing a ballet class is not the end of the world. Sure, it’s a waste of money to miss (there are no makeups allowed), and the teacher may have wondered where Nora was — though with like 14 other preschoolers in the class, I doubt she even noticed. But still, I feel terrible. The fact that Nora somehow didn’t notice that we missed class (she’s still a little shaky on what happens on what days of the week, or what the days of the week are at all) doesn’t really help. I feel guilty. And mad at myself for making a mistake like that. And confused about how I could have made it.
I’ve been really busy this week, workwise. I’ve got a business trip (my first ever!) this weekend, and lots of stuff to do before I leave. Deadlines are looming, and I guess I was spending so much time and energy looking ahead to all that that I forgot to be in the present. And thus, poof. Ballet class forgotten.
Despite how bad I feel, I’m trying to look at it as a valuable learning experience. Just as I try to get my daughter to learn and move on after she makes a mistake, I’m trying to do the same. Let’s be in the present more, mama, or, if nothing else, let’s write this stuff on the dang calendar.