MARCH 24, 2009 5:55PM

Ramblings of a Neurotic Mother

Rate: 2 Flag

It's not that I hate waiting. I'm not the most patient person, but I can certainly bide my time, if I know the important details. Especially when and what. If I know basically what is going to happen and when, I'm fine.

For example, once I decided to start my son in kindergarten, rather than wait a year, and full-day instead of half, I had the big picture: I had met his teacher, seen the school and his classroom, knew the yearly and daily schedule. I was fine, even though I wouldn’t get details for several months. That was exactly one year ago, and I was comfortable.

 

Now, though, we're in the middle of the Gifted applications for 1st grade. There has been a knot in my stomach for two months. The first deadline has passed: we submitted our applications and asked the teacher to submit hers. Here's the running dialogue in my head for the past week, as the stomach-knot grows immense:

  • What if they didn't get our application? I submitted it online, and it said it was submitted, but there wasn't a confirmation number. Should I call? They said not to call to see if the teacher's application was received, but didn't say anything about calling to see if my application was received. No, I'd be a nuisance, and they'd put a little black mark next to his name. But what if they really didn't get it?

Now I'm waiting for the postcard that gives the testing date, time, and location. The new dialogue (in addition to the previous, which will only end when/if I get the schedule):

  • When's the testing going to be? What if he has soccer? Of course we'll miss the soccer game if we have to, but what should I say to the coach? Should I tell him why, so he knows it's important, or would that be snobby?
  • When's the damned postcard going to get here? When's the damned postcard going to get here? When's the damned ...

I know myself well enough to anticipate the next round of questions, assuming the postcard eventually arrives:

  • What is the testing going to be like? What are they going to ask him? What should I say to prepare him?
[He knows we're applying for a special class, and that if they don't take him, it's because they don't have room, or because they think he'd be happier in the regular class, not because he's not smart enough. So I'm not pressuring him.]
  •  But should I say something to him? Like, it'll be the kinds of questions that his teacher asks him during their testing, or they might ask him to read, and not to worry, just do his best, and relax. [Yeah, mom, RELAX!]
And after that, we still have to wait until JUNE to find out!!! I honestly don't care which class he's in. The teacher, his dad and I did our best to describe his gifts. However well he does or does not test, however he compares to the other applicants ... I trust he’ll end up in the best place for him.

 

I just want to know, so I can start picturing what next year is going to be!

Author tags:

where's the damned mail?, impatience, waiting, family, motherhood, education, gifted children

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Oh Lord, parenting is THE most heartbreaking thing on the planet. Each year of our child's life brings something new to agonize over. My son had his Jr. Prom last night, so that's the neighborhood I live in right now. Hang in there!
Deborah Young
March 24, 2009 06:05 PM
Poor you. Poor, poor you. Hang in there dogmom. You're a fantastic mother and I think it'll all be okay.
AshKW
March 24, 2009 06:19 PM
Deborah: Well, Jane, it just goes to show you, it's always something.
Junior prom? Wow! Now that's a fun neighborhood!

Ash: I know. It's all about me. Oh, wait, meant to say "it's NOT all about me." :-)
dogmom
March 24, 2009 06:25 PM
And it never ends. I was never more neurotic than I was in the last weeks of my three daughter's pregnancies. Worse, they were all quite late. I worry at least as much about my grandkid's coughs and sniffles. Long ago, I convinced myself that worrying was a particularly effective form of prayer, and that has made me feel much better.

I even worry that my daughters don't worry enough. But then my mom never worried.

You sound like a great mom. All will be well. I was a wreck that my shyest child would flub the gifted program interview. Instead she apparently talked a blue streak. When we asked her why, she said, "This was an interview."
Redstocking Grandma
March 24, 2009 06:51 PM
Oh heavens. I can't imagine what this must be like. I have a feeling it will all work out for the best, no matter how it goes. Yes, trust he will be in the best place, that really is all you can do. Oh, and relax, worrying won't change a thing.
BuffyW
March 24, 2009 07:22 PM
Oh I remember this so well! My son interviewed for the gifted kindergarten program, and when he marched out of his testing interview, I asked him, "How did it go?" He said, "Great, we played games and stuff. They asked me what 6 plus 7 was, and I told 'em, 8!" 6-7-8, made sense to me!

I know you are writing mainly for the humor here, and you are very funny. I also really really wish I could reach out and take your anxiety away. It's one of the few things I would go back and change - I was just always so worried that I would get something wrong, or that my kids wouldn't get in the right class or on the good sports team. I was always so darn worried! And the other moms were always SO hyper too... "Did your kid make it into X? We got our envelope yesterday!" Are you experiencing this kind of snarky competition as well?

You're a natural, funny writer, and I bet a very fun mother, too. Looking forward to reading more of your "ramblings!" Rated.
annette2009
March 24, 2009 07:32 PM
Redstocking: I know, I'm going to turn into my grandmother, not my mother. After successfully and non-anxiously raising my mother, she then would sit up all night watching us sleep as babies, to make sure we were still breathing. And I don't worry that he'll be shy--the only way he'll blow it is if he gets too goofy and just clowns around.

Buffy, I'm trying. Just where's the damned postcard? :-)

Annette, thanks for wanting to take away my anxiety, and also for saying I'm funny.

To everyone: I know I'm lucky to be in this situation. I never take it for granted, knowing that there are much tougher parenting situations I could be dealing with. But there's always got to be something to worry about, big or little, right?
dogmom
March 25, 2009 11:47 AM
The damned postcard finally arrived. And do you know what it says? You can pick either date, just show up by 7:30. Now, why couldn't they tell me that up front? At least I know they received his application. But I stressed about the postcare for nothing??
dogmom
April 03, 2009 02:38 PM