HiveComb

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It was a typical Monday morning for me, another day to shuttle between my 9-to-5 job and my life as a mom. I was already overwhelmed, living both lives and desperately needed a break, an escape from the school run, even if it was just for 24 hours. At that moment, in my agony, my phone beeped. The screen brightened, and I took a peek. The time was 5:30 am. Who could be texting at this time, I wondered, my sore eyes searching through the notification for a name. Alas! It was a WhatsApp message from my daughter's school. I saw something like "midterm" and immediately rushed to open the message. Could this be the miracle I had prayed for? Is God this swift in answering prayers? Finally, a midterm break, I had resolved in my mind. I just needed to know the dates so I could inform HR about bringing my daughter to the office. I glanced through the lengthy message hastily until I saw a date. Oh, joy! The break was the following week, I exclaimed. At this point, I felt energized. Finally! Just this week, and I could rest from the school run for another week.

My excitement was so glaring that when I woke my daughter to get ready for school, she wiped her eyes with the back of her palm, looked at me, and questioned, "Mommy, why are you smiling?"

"Oh, am I?" I responded with an even broader smile.

"Yes, Mommy, you are smiling right now. Tell me! Why are you happy this morning?" she pushed inquisitively.

"Oh, nothing! It's just your midterm break is next week, and I can finally rest and get enough sleep before work....."

I wasn't even done talking before my daughter cut in, screaming, "Yaaay... No school next week!" She jumped out of the bed in excitement, singing her newly composed song of no school next week and whining her tiny waist. It was such a funny sight to behold, and I had a good laugh that morning. Apparently, I wasn't the only one overwhelmed with the whole school situation.

Checking the time and seeing how far it had gone, we hurriedly freshened up after which I went to heat up lunch for our food warmer. My daughter got done with breakfast, and we both headed out, hoping to start our day in good faith. I got to work and informed HR of my daughter's midterm break, I also made my intentions known about bringing her to work because I didn't have a personal nanny. HR, without hesitation, agreed and I knew that the universe was on my side.

Going through the week, I had high hopes for the next and it was me taking on every task with anticipation that the burden will soon be lessened. Finally, The day we had all been waiting for, the midterm break, arrived. As anticipated, my daughter and I slept to our heart's content. Instead of my usual wake-up time by 3 am, we started waking up by 6 am – three extra hours of sleep – and also more time to prepare without haste and palpitations.

For the first time, my daughter was at my office. She was super excited as my colleagues did not hesitate to show her love. In fact, my boss created her own corner for her, where she was watching cartoons on my boss's backup laptop. In that corner created for my daughter, she received different goodies from my colleagues and bosses alike. The pampering was so much that every day, my daughter looked forward to going to work with me.

But sadly, Friday came, like the Flash character in DC Comics. Like my daughter, I was in low spirits for the coming week because I anticipated the burden that was to come. At my daughter's end, she kept hammering on the cartoons and edible goodies that she would be missing out on. She talked about it so much that she wanted to suggest shuttling between school and my office, but I didn't let that thought come to fruition.

Back to our normal routine, we got set by 6:45 am and headed out for school. As we walked to the junction to board a tricycle, I noticed that the road was unusually quiet. I felt maybe it was because we came out a bit too early, or that most school children weren't back from their midterm travels. We boarded a tricycle and then got to my daughter's school. Usually, by the time we got there, which was 7:15 am, the gate ought to be wide open with children and cars trooping in, but it was just my daughter and I standing in front of a locked gate.

I looked at the time again, and it was still past 7am. I wondered what was going on, as nothing about that morning made sense. I knocked at the gate several times, and the security man, who happened to live there, came out.

"Ha! Madam, no school today, o," the security man informed.

Next, he turned to my daughter and questioned, "Chidera, you didn't tell your mommy that today is midterm?" At that moment, I panicked; I was confused and didn't know what to do. But I quickly pulled myself together and asked the security man, "If they're on midterm break, what was it they had the previous week?" He responded, "Midterm test." My heart ached, and I felt a lump develop in my throat. I quickly rushed back to the message to confirm what the security man was saying. Lo and behold, what I had originally seen as midterm break was actually midterm test, while the midterm break was commencing on Friday and extending to just Monday of the following week. My knees became weak, my heart pounding as I started sweating. I didn't want to give off the impression of being an irresponsible parent, so I just smiled and turned to leave with my daughter.

As we walked away, my daughter kept asking me, "Mommy, what are we going to do?" Honestly, I didn't know. I was devastated and having a bizarre moment. I felt rage and I was angry at my daughter's teacher for not calling to check up on my daughter when she didn't show up on the first day of the test. I felt really bad and just wanted to call my daughter's teacher and yell. I needed someone to take the blame and pour out my frustration. But I have since learned not to act in anger.

I immediately took cognizance of my role in the whole mix-up and knew that if I didn't handle it well, my daughter might miss out completely on getting any test score. So I did what I always do in my times of despair – I turned to my mother. I placed a call through and narrated all that had transpired. After sympathizing with me, she advised me to calm down and call their head teacher. She also warned me not to give off the impression that I had read the message from the school but rather that we had an emergency and traveled out of town, only for my daughter to resume school and be informed of the test plus midterm break. My mom educated me on the importance of being diplomatic because my daughter's grade was at stake.

Doing exactly as my mom had instructed; I called the head teacher and also my daughter's teacher. I spoke in my softest tone, and I was tendered an apology with a promise that once the midterm was over the following day, my daughter would have her test. Upon inquiry from the head teacher if I didn't get the memo circulated, I lied, saying my phone was having a storage issue, so I didn't get it. In my daughter's teacher's defense, when I queried her for not caring enough about my daughter to call when she was absent, she said that I had informed her of a pending trip, and when she didn't see my daughter, she thought we had gone for the trip. Luckily the whole issue was involved and it turned out to be one of life's lessons to me.