Welcome to Another Edition of “Working Mom Guilt”

So as you may have read in my Wordless Wednesday post yesterday, Greenleigh’s dance class is over for the summer.  Oh wait, did I say over?  Well, now, that’s not exactly true…

About a month ago, Greenleigh’s dance teacher handed us a packet of all the information that we’d need to get the kids ready for the recital – where to park, what time to drop them off, how their hair and make up was to be done, etc.  Included at the back of the packet was a signup sheet for the summer class session.  I was so glad to see that they were offering summer classes and was about to fill out the bottom of the form when my eye caught the word “Tuesday”.  I know they offer 3 and 4 year old classes several days a week, so I figured I had just missed the part about Saturday.

But I didn’t.  Because there are no Saturday classes over the summer.  All classes are on Tuesday.  At 3:30pm.  You know, when I’m at work.  Over 4o miles away.

After going through all the information about the recital, the teacher (who Greenleigh loves adores), started to discuss the summer session.  She mentioned how she would be teaching the class and looked forward to seeing each of them there.  She talked about how affordable it was.  How it was only 6-8 weeks long, but how the kids would get a lot out of it.  And most importantly, she stressed continuity.

All things I agreed with…but how in the world was I supposed to be there at 3:30pm on a Tuesday?  Are we all expected to be stay at home or work at home moms?  Or just moms with uber flexible schedules?  And what’s up with moving perfectly good weekend activity into the week?

Now of course, I’m a rational person – I understand why they do these things.  If they can close their studio over the weekends it saves on instructor fees, electric, and other overhead.  And I’m sure, once upon a time, they offered these classes but noticed a decline in enrollment because of family vacation or kid’s camp schedules.  I’m a rational person.  I get it.  But it doesn’t take away the working mom sting of not being able to be there.

You see, my job isn’t exactly flexible.  A few years back, I asked to leave work 30 minutes early so I could go to Greenleigh’s gymnastics class.  It was a 6-8 week thing over a summer when things are typically slow.  I offered to make up for the time by shortening/eliminated lunches, coming in early, staying late on other days, etc., but the idea didn’t go over well.  They ultimately approved it, but gave me a hard time about it every week when I went to leave 30 minutes early.  It got to the point where it just wasn’t worth it.  We ended up dropping out of the class before the end of the summer.  Based on that experience, I can definitively say that any request that I made to leave at 2pm on a Tuesday is going to be met with a raised eyebrow and denial at the very least.

Tuesday classes are not an option.

So I did what any mom would do – I started to plan other fun activities to fill our summer.  I looked for other programs to enroll her in: art, music, gymnastics, horseback riding.  I even looked into other dance studios.  Which was all well and good until this morning when Greenleigh asked if she was going to wear her recital outfit to dance class this week.

“Oh, no honey…there is no dance class this week.  Dance class is over.  Remember, you had your recital?”

If you only could have seen the sad look in her eyes.  It killed me.

“But what about my teacher and my friends?  Lily is taking classes this summer.”

Yes, yes she is…  I hate explaining these kinds of things.  I stayed strong and told her that we were going to have lots of fun.  I told her about all the things I had planned.  And I told her that she might even take dance at a new place over the summer.  But these assurances didn’t go very far.

“But why can’t I take classes with my teacher?  I like her.  And my friends are there.”

I know honey, I know.  If only I could get you there on Tuesdays.  If only.