More Evidence that I Am Insane

In over 12 years at my last gymnastics coaching job, and in the 6 years of coaching prior to that, never once did I teach a preschool class. I knew it wasn't my thing because I don't enjoy that age-level interaction much (for example, "now let's flap our butterfly wings...where are YOU flying to today?") and I just plain don't have the patience.

So why I decided that I would entertain 16 four-year-olds for two hours is beyond me.

It went okay--no one got hurt, mostly the kids had fun (I think) and some parents were even kind enough to come up and tell me what a great job I did. Whether it was because they could see my exasperation and were trying to make me feel better or they really thought I did a good job--I honestly do not know.

What I do know is that I will Never. Do. That. Again.

It also happened to be the first warmer day of the year (low 80s), and by time I left, I not only smelled like it was the hottest day of the year, but I had a migraine starting. When I got home, I took my very last migraine pill and laid down.

My daughter, wound up from the party and excited it was so nice she could play outside, wouldn't let me be, no matter how much I begged her to go ask her Baba to play instead. She was SO rambunctious that eventually she head-butted me, trying to get my attention. I very gently told her NO and asked her, again, to please leave Mommy alone because my head hurts and I need to rest.

Her response? She head-butted me again. HARD.

I was so tired--physically, emotionally--and not feeling well already that I was literally shaking. I picked her up and yelled that we do NOT hit people in the head. I set her down and walked away to get ice. When I got back, she was crying because I'd scared her. I was still too wound up to be gentle and the punishment for hurting someone (intentionally) in our house is time-out, so I sent her to time out.

I spent some time just trying to breathe and calm down while icing my head that was now throbbing internally and externally. After a few minutes, I went to check in the bathroom.

I already had a lump and discoloration over my right eye.

Had our daughter been a boy, we had planned on naming her "Zidan." It was the only name my husband and I could agree on. It wasn't until six months after she was born that I discovered that Zidane the soccer player (why my husband liked the name so much) had actually been kicked out of soccer for head-butting another player. Apparently that name fits our child anyway, despite her being a girl.

I let my daughter out of time-out and for some reason Mommy wasn't as much fun to bother any more, so she tagged along with my husband who was working in the yard.

Luckily I got a bit of a nap and the migraine medication did its job.

Next year, instead of trying to do things "cheaper" (I'm not even sure it ended up being that), I'm going to go with "simpler." Whether it's one other kid and pony rides or paying someplace to put on the party for her, I don't know.

Apparently this was yet another example of how I just cannot do moderation.