Month: February 2017

The Monday when you wake up groggy from the weekend of caring for victims of the stomach virus. You stand in front of the closet for way too much time because you can’t focus long enough to put together any resemblance of style. Your husband has to leave early for work. You pin your unruly hair into a mess of an updo. You go downstairs to find your boys. Hubby dressed them, so that’s great. But it’s whacky day at preschool, and your 4year old resists whacky. You fix breakfast and go back upstairs to apply necessary makeup. 

Makeup is finished. Now it is time to wake the baby. She is ill. She prefers another three hours of sleep. You are most certain she has done the dirty, so you wrestle her to the ground in your dress clothes. Nope. No poo. You change her clothes -with a fight- and return to the marathon of getting to the car. Vitamins, coffee, backpacks, shoes, etc. one of the boys comes running to say that the baby stinks. Poop. Metaphorically and literally. Another diaper change you don’t have time for. You comply. Btw- that’s another hand washing session.  You tie shoes and get everyone to the car. 

It’s 7:21 am. You missed the golden minute. Your entire drop-off routine is a wash now. Backing out of the garage into the pouring rain, you announce to the car that you are all late. You attempt to restart the day with some Toby Mac. One drop off: semi smooth. Rush to the sitters and drop off the baby. Third drop off involves a meandering 4 year-old in the rain with no umbrella. Yep, missed the drive up drop off. 

Get to work. Spend a few minutes working and listening to praise and worship music. Then you manage to inadvertantly offend a co-worker about the office letterhead and a 20 year friend, in a matter of minutes. Spend the next few minutes trying to print on letterhead. Why is this so difficult for me? Upside-down, backwards. Geez. It’s like I have a block. You finally get it right and take off to deliver. You take the three page letter of recommendation to a friend to learn that the letter must be less than one page in length. Shew. 

No time for a coke or restroom breaks. You receive a text from a neighbor stating that the neighbor’s house is on fire. You re-route to the sitter’s house for pick-up. You walk into the sitter’s to learn that the baby has a raging nose bleed. And you are of course wearing a white shirt. And she, of course, is wearing a brand new outfit. After getting all three kids into the car, you head home. 

A jolly police man stops you and tells you he isn’t sure when you will be able to get home. As you are standing on the street negotiating with the kind man, your car door opens and the middle child is trying to get out onto a Main Street. Your oldest is having an emotional breakdown inside of the car because you can’t get home. The kind officer consoles your child and tells you to take them shopping. This man has obviously never taken three small children into any store. After shutting down that idea he suggests the park. The baby has on no shoes. 

You beg him to allow you to drive onto the vacant lot behind your house and park. He doesn’t approve but doesn’t stop you. You pull down into the lot. You park. You then traipse through the woods in heels with a chubby two-year old on your hip and two boys running directly toward the fire. You can’t catch them because your heels are sinking in the mud. 

After getting everyone into the house, the oldest reminds you of the free karate class tonight for which you have a voucher. But the voucher is nowhere to be found. You send him anyway. You get a text from a friend that her sewer is backing up into the house, and you desperately want to help her. But you are ankle deep in poo today too!  Fast forward. He returns home. The middle is distraught because he didn’t get a belt at karate. Everyone showers. You wash the blood off of the baby. Then there are jammies and the brushing of teeth. You snuggle the baby up for a moment before placing her in bed, and she is once again covered in blood. You take a deep breath, clean her face with a warm cloth, and take her back to bed. 

You hold her close and sing a very poor version of Lauren Daigle and thank God for the chaos of your day. And then you ask Him to make tomorrow a little less eventful. But if not, you will love it just the same. Happy Monday, Mommas!!
❤ Shalom

My mornings are a hodgepodge of disasters. Some mornings I pull into the drop off line while cups, phones, half-empty (who’s kidding they are empty with a small drink left in the bottom) coffee mugs, balls, and lipsticks slide into my lap/floorboard on the first turn. I reset them only to have them fall in the exact same manner on the second turn. I realize the oldest has forgotten his backpack as he is getting out of the car. Some days, I pull out of the garage to realize that it is thirty degrees, and my children are severely inappropriately dressed for the weather. At times, I miss  the drop off line for the second child by 45 seconds because the police officer at the first school drop off decided he would rather watch the traffic than direct it in the rain. Can’t say that I blame him. And because I missed the drop off I have to drag the baby out in the rain to walk the middle inside. But wait, I don’t have an umbrella, so we all get drenched in the process. 

There have been mornings where I was putting the baby in her car seat, fully dressed for work,  heard screaming, looked up just in time to see the water spray coming down toward me from over the car (inside of the garage) because that precious middle child was shooting the water hose. Awesome. There are of course the days when we can’t find shoes, have potty accidents, and the everyday troubles of getting out the door. There have even been days when we had to change clothes because the boys escaped and made snow angels before I could stop them. 

Not today. Nope. I was on time. We had backpacks, coats, the oldest even had on his 100th day of school t-shirt! And wait for it…….everyone’s hair was brushed. I was on my way today. We were winning. I felt like I had the day whipped before 7:25. Number one got out of the car bouncing with pride in his new shirt. I pulled away in all of my glory. The second drop off was sure to be on time. I pulled up to the stop sign where the kind, young, brand spanking new policeman stood directing traffic. He flashed me a stop hand, and I smiled and complied. He directed the outside lines; I waited. He gave me a glance. I inched forward thinking his frustration was that I wasn’t moving. He flashed me another stop hand. I haulted. He continued to give me a frustrated glare. I finally threw up my hands in confusion. He gestured in both directions. Oooh. I didn’t have on my turning signal. 

I briefly felt embarrassed. He was visibly frustrated with my incompetence. Then I realized that today he was not going to steal my thunder. Nope. No dulling my sparkle. My standards cannot be perfection. Let’s be really honest. They can’t even be close to that. Even though I managed to royally anger the new police officer, I was on fire this morning! I accepted that my version of success looks different than most. And I am ok with that. 

My apologies to the young officer for my inability to effectively use my turning signals. I will try to do better tomorrow. 
❤ Shalom