Last night was a strange night. First of all, with 1 PM church time, I don't get my usual Sunday nap in anymore, and that just puts me in a strange mood to begin with. But after church, and a delicious meal of Laura's chicken enchiladas, we settled in for a view of Amazing Race. As I hunkered down under the blankets, I got that no so fresh feeling. Ewww. I hate that. So up to bed I went. I tossed and turned most of the night, trying at first not to throw up, and then trying to get myself to throw up just so I could feel better.
Nothing happened. Except a very strange dream.
I sat observing a preschool class, in which 3 of my own children were enrolled. The class instructor was very strict, and as I observed, I found myself needing to step in to help control her very bad temper. She was a beautiful teacher, long blond hair, and the cutest little lisp. She had on very fancy jewelry, and wore stunning pointy toe shoes. But still, despite her good looks, she was mean.
At one point, my Sister-In-Law arrives with her 3 kids, drops them in the classroom and heads out on her merry way, none the wiser to our harsh teacher's antics. I stayed, and felt I needed to protect my kids from her.
Finally, just as class was ending, the teacher turned to me, and I recognized her face instantly. She told me she couldn't deal with my kids anymore, and she was certain their lives would be screwed up forever because of my bad parenting skills. She actually used the words "screwed up", which surprised me, even in my dream state, because she is so eloquent with language, that I felt she could have found better words. And I don't see her as the "screwed" using type in her real life, even though I don't know her in real life.
But as she stormed out of the classroom in a huff of arrogance, she turned to me and lowered down to face me where I was sitting. She was so close I could smell her toothpaste. As she was about to say some other mean snarky comment, I took my right hand and POW! I punched her square in the eye. She stumbled back, and came back at me with a force that shoved me over in my chair. She straddled on top of me, and began pummeling me with her fists.
All the while, I lay there taking the punches, thinking to myself, "why on earth is CJane punching me?"
She seems so sweet. I've never gotten the abusive vibe from her at all. I mean, she took in her nieces and nephew with nary a days notice, and fed and clothed them for months just out of the goodness of her heart. And yet, here she is, punching me in the face. It was shocking, really.
But then I was startled awake by the 2 AM screams from Gretta, apparently she was having a scary dream, too.
So CJane, I know we don't know each other, but if you could please remember that when you're teaching my kid(s) in preschool, don't start punching me in the face for being a bad mom. I beat myself up enough for both of us.