My least favorite expression is "See Me."  I hated it when teachers wrote it on my papers.  I hated it when bosses e-mailed it or wrote it on Post-Its stuck to my computer monitor.  I never thought I would have to deal with this most hated expression in the world of the little angel.

Today her teacher in Waddler B wrote it on her sheet.

Apparently the little angel has been "clingy, whiny and wanting to nibble on her cup" during the day. "See me," the note read.  "I need to talk to you face-to-face."

I HATE it when someone says that when there is no even remote possibility I can see them face-to-face in the near future.  I won't even see her face-to-face tomorrow morning, because I can't do drop-off due to an appointment.

I'm sure the recent regression is easily explained by one of two things:  1) my new job and our recent schedule changes (hell, I was nibbling on my cup most of the day, too) and 2) her hatred of the growing midget population of Waddler B.  Oh, Two-Year-Old Room (henceforth to be dubbed Toddler High), you can't come soon enough for the little angel.  She hates those damn babies, yes, she does.  She loves certain babies, such as Baby N. and Arrruuuuun (as she says it, as though she is howling for the moon), but these babies are children of our friends.  They share their toys and gurgle cutely at her.  They don't steal her toys and yell when she's trying to sleep.  Even Ms. S. finally said something to that effect the other day.  We all know that it's time for her to go, Waddler B has jumped the shark, let's move on to the next thing already, WTF.

Yet still.  I'll have to call her teacher, Ms. J., and either come off as a busy working mama who doesn't care if my daughter is, like, totally regressing or an obsessed mother-of-one who doesn't know a phase when it breathes Doritos in her face. I can't win.  Really. 

See me tomorrow. I'll let you know.