The best laid plans of moms and sons...

I'm going to get this out of the way early - I sent Griffin to day care this morning without any breakfast. Please don't tell me what an awful mother I am because I've already told myself that at least 100 times today...and it's only 2 PM.

Here's the deal. Griffin usually gets breakfast at day care. It's a really good breakfast, too. Believe me, my stomach starts growling as soon as I walk in the front door of our provider's house. Breakfast casseroles. Eggs. Biscuits and gravy. Pancakes with real blueberries. The kid's got it good. The only problem is that we need to be there by 7:15 AM so she can serve breakfast and get some of the older kids off to school. I have no problem with that, but someone does (think short, cute, and blond curly hair).

Griffin is not a morning person. He's also not someone who likes to be rushed, which is exactly what I have to do Monday through Friday in order to get him to day care in time for breakfast. He's still sleepy and rubs his eyes and swats at anyone who comes near him with clothing. I swear he can spot a pair of jeans from across the room. It's a struggle to get him dressed, and once he's dressed, it's a struggle to get out the door.

Today I decided that I would feed him breakfast myself and get him to day care by 7:45 AM. Sounded like a good plan. It was a good plan, but we all know about the best laid plans. Griffin and I had a battle royale. When I finally got him in the car (I practically had to sit on top of him to buckle him in), I tried to get him to eat something on our drive to day care. He had a sippy cup of milk, a banana, a small bag of Goldfish crackers, and a few broken pieces of a raspberry Poptart (the breakfast of champions, I know, but it was food). He had a few crackers, but that was it. He was really tired and when that happens, he doesn't want anything.

We got to our provider's house and she was already loading kids in the van. I handed him over and she got him in his seat. I got back to my car, pulled away, and felt a heaviness in my chest I haven't felt since the day I went back to work after my maternity leave. Guilt. How could I have sent my son without any breakfast? I know what you're all thinking. But Tracy, you tried. You had Poptarts and Goldfish. You did the best you could. But that's the funny thing about guilt. It never feels like you did good enough. There's always something more you could have done. I'm not sure what that "something" is, but I feel it.

Of course he can survive without breakfast, but the real question is how am I going to survive if I keep feeling this kind of guilt?

Addendum: This post makes Griffin sound like a whiny brat. He's not. He just inherited my stubborn streak and Patrick's short fuse (lethal combo). Lord help us all if he inherits my passive-aggressiveness and ability to hold a grudge for an abnormal amount of time.