Monday - The Cupcake Test
Oct. 9th, 2006 05:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreToday on my drive into work, I was thinking about the fact that I haven't gotten the hang of this motherhood thing, at least based on the conversation that I had with my son's daycare teacher this morning.
I dropped him off in his classroom, just like it was any other day. But it's not just any other day: he had a birthday on Sunday.
"Did you bring cupcakes for the class?" his teacher asked sweetly.
"Cupcakes?"
"Didn't he have a birthday this weekend?"
"Uhm...yes. Yesterday. He's two. Was I supposed to bring cupcakes?"
"Oh, don't worry about it," she said with a smile, "It's just that some parents do."
"Oh." Damn, I thought. She means most parents do. All of the other mothers except for me. I suck.
"You could bring them tomorrow, if you want," she suggested, still sweetly.
"Tomorrow?"
"It won't be too late."
"Of course not. It'll still be his birthweek."
"But you don't have to. It's up to you. You can just bake some tonight, if you wanted."
"I store things in my oven. I guess I could clean it out." I was thinking out loud at this point. The pressure was getting to me. Cupcakes. I thought I might own a pan for making them. I remembered that I do. It needs washing. It's dusty.
"Clean it out? You don't bake in your oven?"
"Well, sometimes. I take all of the pans out of it when I do." I wasn't just saying this, either. I use that oven a good 4 or 5 times a year, at least.
"It's up to you. It's no big deal."
"OK, then. Maybe tomorrow."
"It's up to you."
Cupcakes. I remembered the flyer his school sent home when I enrolled him. It says that, if they desire, parents can send cupcakes to school with their children on their birthdays to share with the class. It also states that this is optional. I should have known better. It should read, "If you don't love your child very much, you are perfectly free to not send cupcakes to school with him or her. Of course, your child's teachers and the other parents will know that you suck as a mother and will judge you for this. Don't worry, because we at First Baptist Child Care know that not everyone is a loving and competent parent. This is why we have The Cupcake Test to highlight people like you."
I thought that since my son's birthday fell on a weekend, I was exempt from cupcake duty. I also assumed that since he and all of his little classmates are two years old and don't even know what a birthday is, it wouldn't be a big deal. This is what I get for thinking.
Damn.
I guess I'll be stopping off at the store on my way home today. I know for a fact that they sell ready-made cupcakes in the bakery there. I can take them out of the grocery store container and put them in something else to create the illusion that they are homemade. That's the way my mother did it when I was growing up, as I recall. If I scrape off that awful grocery store icing and replace it with Betty Crocker icing, the trick is almost foolproof. This way, my son and I both save face. I get credit for being a loving and competent, if slightly tardy, mother, and he gets credit for having a mom who doesn't suck.
Next year, when he turns 3, I won't be caught off guard like this. I'll buy the cupcakes and the Betty Crocker frosting ahead of time, and no one will be the wiser. I can pass The Cupcake Test with flying colors - just so long as I'm willing to cheat.
And I am.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ # ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
I dropped him off in his classroom, just like it was any other day. But it's not just any other day: he had a birthday on Sunday.
"Did you bring cupcakes for the class?" his teacher asked sweetly.
"Cupcakes?"
"Didn't he have a birthday this weekend?"
"Uhm...yes. Yesterday. He's two. Was I supposed to bring cupcakes?"
"Oh, don't worry about it," she said with a smile, "It's just that some parents do."
"Oh." Damn, I thought. She means most parents do. All of the other mothers except for me. I suck.
"You could bring them tomorrow, if you want," she suggested, still sweetly.
"Tomorrow?"
"It won't be too late."
"Of course not. It'll still be his birthweek."
"But you don't have to. It's up to you. You can just bake some tonight, if you wanted."
"I store things in my oven. I guess I could clean it out." I was thinking out loud at this point. The pressure was getting to me. Cupcakes. I thought I might own a pan for making them. I remembered that I do. It needs washing. It's dusty.
"Clean it out? You don't bake in your oven?"
"Well, sometimes. I take all of the pans out of it when I do." I wasn't just saying this, either. I use that oven a good 4 or 5 times a year, at least.
"It's up to you. It's no big deal."
"OK, then. Maybe tomorrow."
"It's up to you."
Cupcakes. I remembered the flyer his school sent home when I enrolled him. It says that, if they desire, parents can send cupcakes to school with their children on their birthdays to share with the class. It also states that this is optional. I should have known better. It should read, "If you don't love your child very much, you are perfectly free to not send cupcakes to school with him or her. Of course, your child's teachers and the other parents will know that you suck as a mother and will judge you for this. Don't worry, because we at First Baptist Child Care know that not everyone is a loving and competent parent. This is why we have The Cupcake Test to highlight people like you."
I thought that since my son's birthday fell on a weekend, I was exempt from cupcake duty. I also assumed that since he and all of his little classmates are two years old and don't even know what a birthday is, it wouldn't be a big deal. This is what I get for thinking.
Damn.
I guess I'll be stopping off at the store on my way home today. I know for a fact that they sell ready-made cupcakes in the bakery there. I can take them out of the grocery store container and put them in something else to create the illusion that they are homemade. That's the way my mother did it when I was growing up, as I recall. If I scrape off that awful grocery store icing and replace it with Betty Crocker icing, the trick is almost foolproof. This way, my son and I both save face. I get credit for being a loving and competent, if slightly tardy, mother, and he gets credit for having a mom who doesn't suck.
Next year, when he turns 3, I won't be caught off guard like this. I'll buy the cupcakes and the Betty Crocker frosting ahead of time, and no one will be the wiser. I can pass The Cupcake Test with flying colors - just so long as I'm willing to cheat.
And I am.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-10-10 04:41 pm (UTC)I so owe your little boy cupcakes! REAL ones with REAL icing. Too bad I'm not MY mom, whose homemade cupcakes were so yummy and beautiful that my teachers thought she really DID cheat! *shrug*
no subject
Date: 2006-10-10 04:47 pm (UTC)My place is not suitable for entertaining at this point, and I hated the idea of asking That Woman My Father Is Married To use their place again (at least not for a big get together). I'm not a party throwing kind of gal. I turn into a deer in the headlights at the very idea, so I didn't do it this year.
See? I'm a bad mother.