Today’s Mom Failure: The Case of the Missing “Share”
Well bless my heart and pass me a Chick-fil-A napkin, because today I earned myself a sparkly gold star in Mama Guilt.
All week long I’d been hyping up Jenna’s Leader Day like it was the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. It was on the calendar, highlighted, circled, underlined—shoot, I practically put it in skywriting. I remembered Jess doing the share in this same Pre-K class two years ago, but I didn’t see a single peep in this year’s paperwork for Jenna’s first leader day. So I figured: no share yet. Cool cool cool.
Cut to school pickup. Jenna climbs in the car, buckles in, and—without so much as a “hey Mama”—announces, “You forgot my share.”
Y’all.
The way my stomach fell straight through the floorboard of my minivan and rolled into oncoming traffic.
I apologized so fast I nearly sprained my manners. Texted the teachers, hat in hand, hoping maybe she could share tomorrow. Her teacher, an absolute angel on earth, replied that it was all good—Jenna used her new Hello Kitty jacket as her share. The same jacket I suggested she wear this morning because it was a little chilly out.
Thought #1: High five to me for the jacket idea. Look at me, being a prepared parent by accident!
Thought #2: That tiny drama queen had me white-knuckling the steering wheel the whole ride home, screeching like a sugar-fed peacock and refusing to tell me she used the jacket—so I could simmer in Mama guilt for two solid hours for absolutely nothing. Child!!
And because the universe loves a good plot twist: apparently the share expectation was mentioned at the parent meet & greet…which I missed because I couldn’t get a sitter. I’ve attended that thing for five years. The ONE year I can’t go? Of course that’s when they slip in a crucial detail between juice boxes and name tags.
Anyway, we are fine. I am fine. It’s fine.
Jenna was adorable, the jacket got its moment, and I only burned through half my emergency stash of car mints. I checked her class calendar—next month’s share theme is listed clear as day, so I’ve put it in my calendar with three reminders, a sticky note on the coffee maker, and a little whispered prayer over my morning grits.
If you’re another mama who’s ever fumbled the ball at the goal line, come sit by me. We’ll laugh, we’ll cry, and then we’ll set four alarms and a calendar invite for next time. Because if there’s one thing motherhood in Georgia has taught me, it’s that we may be a little scattered—but honey, we are resourceful.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to decorate that Hello Kitty jacket in my mind with a “Thank you for saving Mama’s reputation” sash and move on with my life. Tomorrow’s a new day, and I’ve got reminders set like it’s NASA launch time.
