Its Not You, Its Me

Dear Emma,

You are due to be on a bus, and off with your class on a field trip in 8 hours. I am suppose to be chaperoning , but I can't. Not because I don't want to go play in clay with you, or because I don't want to be surrounded by 19 other people your size, but simply because I have issues. One pesky issue in particular called anxiety. It keeps me from doing things that I'd like to do from time to time. You know how, when you ask me if we can go out to the park, and I say, "not today"? Well, we can thank anxiety for that. And when you ask me to come volunteer in your classroom on Wednesdays? Uh huh, anxiety can be thanked for that too. I should probably take this time to apologize too, for having you aid in lying to your teacher about why I had to back out of the trip at the last minute. I wrote a note, that you delivered, so you are only minimally my accomplice, but still. You were so sweet and understanding. You told me that it was ok, because other parents would be there, and it was fine if I couldn't come because I had work to do. Your innocence and ability to view the world as is, without the level of analysis that will come later, is a lifesaver.

I am sure that you will have a lot of fun on this trip. You are supposed to be wearing clothes that can get "very dirty", but I will dress you in your Field Trips Rock shirt (which isn't one of those 'can get very dirty' shirts, but is perfect for the day) some sweats, and hope that the rain stays at bay until you are safely returned to your school this afternoon.

I am looking forward to hearing all about it... I know you will be eager to tell me.

Love,
Mommy