Being a stay-at-home mom made sending my son to school feel a little ominous. Passing the honor of influence over my child’s life to another person is not something I took lightly. I was however, looking forward to forming new friendships. The time had finally arrived; my little man was heading to pre-school. It was Orientation day and I was so excited about meeting some new mom friends. I felt a definite sense of camaraderie with these women. Here we were, all sharing this experience together. Our children in school for the first time.
First, we dropped our children off to get acquainted with
their teachers. The speaker began orientation with reading the student handbook
and discussing all the rules and guidelines. Everything was going great. After
all the necessary rules and regulations were read, the speaker opened the floor
for any questions. A mom raised her hand and innocently asked “Is there a no
peanut policy this year, like last year?”
“Good news” the speaker replied. “There is no one registered
this year with peanut allergies. So peanuts are allowed.”
My heart dropped.
In a panic, I looked around at the joy on all the mother’s
faces. I saw a room full of dreams that I would soon be crushing. The room had practically
broken out in applause.
Then, the speaker asked the bombshell question. “I am right,
aren’t I?” No one’s child has peanut allergies, do they?”
My heart started beating rapidly. I felt myself begin to
sweat. “Great!” I thought. “I get to be the jerk that keeps everyone from
bringing PB & J everyday for lunch.” So much for friendship and
camaraderie, these ladies are going to hate me.” So, sheepishly and with much
hesitation I slowly raised my hand. “Um yeah, my son has a bad nut allergy. If
peanut butter touches him he’ll get a rash.”
“Okay, no problem.” the speaker says with understanding in her
voice. “Then only the kids in HER
class can’t bring peanut butter.”
I instantly felt my face turn red. It was like a giant
spotlight had been turned on me. The woman responsible for ending the joyous
“We-can-now-bring-peanut-butter dance.”
“Oh, that’s just perfect “I think to myself. “Now only the
mom’s that I’ll be having direct contact with this year will hate my guts, awesome.”
In the spirit of remaining optimistic, I think to myself, “Well, at least it’s
not the whole school.”
So, after being completely embarrassed and having my hopes
of great friendships dashed. I return to my son’s class to pick him up with a
little less wind in my sails. I walk into the room and there’s a mom that had arrived
ahead of me. Her back was turned to me as she helped her little guy get his
backpack on. She finished her motherly chore and turned around to head out. The
instant she saw me her face showed extreme disappointment and she says, “Oh, YOU’RE in this class. I guess this is
going to be the no peanut room, great.”
Being the passive non-confrontational woman that I am, I
respond with “Well, I don’t want to keep anyone from bringing peanut butter. Maybe
if the teacher’s willing to sit him away from anyone who brings PB & J, it
might be all right to bring it to class.”
“Oh, honey it’s no big deal” she says with a fake smile that
could start a thousand cat fights. “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to him”
she says, thick with counterfeit sympathy.
“Okay, I’m so sorry” I say in that way women say, when what
they really mean is, get over yourself.
Fortunately, notes were sent home and my son was kept safe
from the dangers of peanut contamination. Unfortunately, there was no one to save
me from the unintended wounds moms are capable of inflicting on each other?
