The first thing my mind does when I am told that one of my children's schools has called is imagine the worst case scenario. They broke their leg. They fell and hit their head. They were kidnapped. A bear ate them. They are being held hostage. They never made it to school at all and where are they?
That must make me a fatalist, or a pessimist, or something. Although normally, I am a glass half full kind of gal.
When Brett called me to tell me that Wyatt's Principal had phoned, there was really nothing I could do to stop my mind from thinking all kinds of horrible things. I was so distracted by the words "Wyatt's Principal called," that I didn't even notice the happy tone of his voice, so unlike the parent of a child who has just been mauled on the playground during recess by a rogue bear.
I immediately sprang into action mode, "What's wrong? Is he okay? What happened?"
Good thing my husband knows me well.
"Nothing is wrong, calm down, it was good news." He said.
I'm thinking Good News? Good News? What kind of Principal calls a parent at home with good news? Then I remembered which child of mine we were talking about, and I actually did calm down.
The fact of the matter is that Wyatt's Principal was calling to tell us what a good kid he was (like we didn't already know this). She went on to say that all of the staff members just love him, he is so courteous and respectful and just a pleasure to have at school (again, not news to us). She explained that he is the type of kid that the teachers wish all of the children were like (at this point, the word proud can't even begin to explain how I was feeling hearing my husband tell me what the Principal had said).
But seriously, how often does a parent get a call at home from a Principal telling him that he's got one great kid?
I don't think this happens very often.
Wyatt has always been easy, like Sunday morning. By definition of his birth alone, which was a textbook, pitocin induced VBAC back in the days when they'd still give you pitocin after having had a c-section, he is more obedient than his siblings. It is as if from the very time he became a part of our world, he has been a terrific kid. Easy. Empathetic. Nice. Kind. Generous. Funny. It does not surprise me one bit that he is noticed for being all of these things, and more.
What scares me to death is that I'll do something to mess him up. That somehow, I'll break him. It is no secret that we did not plan on having Wyatt and his brother so close in age. But it just worked out that way. I remember being so overwhelmed, so busy with 2 toddling around at my feet day in and day out and worrying, worrying all the time if I could possibly be giving each of them all that I had, all that they deserved. I remember when Katie was born, worrying, worrying, worrying how it would affect Wyatt, who had held that "baby" spot in my heart for the past 5 years.
I still worry.
But as I quickly learned, my children (each of them in their own way) will always be my babies, even when they are parents themselves, or grandparents if I am lucky enough to live that long.
Parenting Wyatt has been a breeze, but don't think for one minute that I take any credit for him being such a wonderful person as to warrant a phone call home from the Principal. I don't. It's all him and I know that my job, my role, my purpose is to not let him down, as a parent. I can't screw this up.
It's a lot of pressure, but a kind of pressure that I'll happily accept.