But there are some days when my Mommying gets a big fail.
We slept in this morning. Well, not slept in so much as just couldn't be bothered getting out of bed. The kids were tired from a late night out at my eldest's first away game of the season. I was tired because after finally getting the kids to bed in the middle of the bloody night (who plans these things? Seven o'clock out-of-town game start time on a school night? We didn't get home until almost ten o'clock!) my husband and I may have had one or two cocktails too many.
No big deal. The kids and I have our morning routine down pat. We can do this get-dressed-change-Baby-make-beds-eat-breakfast-make-lunches-pack-backpacks-walk-to-school thing in an astonishingly short amount of time. No worries.
Oh, but it's Friday - spelling test day. We always do a practice test before school Friday mornings. No problem, we studied while we ate. I took turns calling out words to each boy while desperately trying to get a pot of coffee going. Needed coffee. Weeknight cocktails not sitting well on weekday morning.
"Mommy, what do we have in our lunches?"
Oh God, lunches. The kids get a hot lunch every day as sandwiches, apparently, are beneath them. Lots of fruit, veggies & yogurt. Usually one Pinterest-worthy creative snack creation. Nothing processed or prepackaged. This morning? Found some leftover hamburger buns in the back of the fridge. They got those. No meat, no cheese. Buns. And an apple, and a banana, and a yogurt, and a granola bar, all of which took roughly seven seconds to locate and toss in their lunch bags. Lunch fail.
Got to school just after second bell - kids will be marked late. Teachers sorely lacking in sympathy for hungover mothers trying to raise a couple of million children. Eldest son skipped off to his class, calling out blithely, "Pizza Day!" (Oh yeah. Friday. Pizza Day. What the hell did I just make you a lunch for? I don't care if it sucks. It's still a lunch.)
Back home, kitchen looked like trailer owned by white trash alcoholics who don't believe in birth control. Dishwasher full & clean so both sinks and half of counter covered in dishes from last night's frantic dinner rush before soccer game and this morning's frantic breakfast rush before school. Other half of counter covered in empty beer bottles and remainder of case of Mike's Hard Lemonade. Kids' breakfast debris covering kitchen table. Contents of Baby's play kitchen and grocery basket covering entire floor as no time to pick up before leaving for school this morning. Pile of random items sitting in corner - shin guards, baby wipes, Ironman action figure, Ninja Turtles sword, library book. Cat must have been investigating Little T's half-constructed animal diorama due next week and sitting where I thought was out of the way on a buffet shelf - bits of cotton batting and glitter everywhere. Cat conspicuously absent.
Ignored kitchen, went out back with Baby and sat with coffee, willing sun and fresh air to perform miracles. Baby wanted me to play in sandbox. Sat there, poking at sand with shovel, staring off into middle distance. Baby got fed up with boring useless Mommy and went off to play in the ball pit.
Fed Baby leftovers for lunch. Didn't reheat or anything - cold leftovers. Then spent two hours trying to convince him to nap. Begged, pleaded, tried to negotiate and bribe. May have dropped the f-bomb - something along the lines of "will you please just take a f-ing nap?" Nope, don't feel even remotely guilty about it. Can't do it when older children are home - Mommy's entitled to a swear every now and again.
Obviously, Baby refused to nap - only because I wanted him to, I'm pretty sure. Bloody contrary child.
Waiting to pick up kids from school (still unshowered, as Baby didn't feel a shower was necessary) Parent Council President Mom scurried over with a clipboard and a sheaf of papers to thank me for volunteering to man a table at the upcoming fundraiser. (I did what...?...)
Kids came out, Eldest son's left shoe literally falling off his foot - sole of shoe somehow detached from rest of shoe at some point during day. Looked like homeless child, quite sure all other schoolyard moms were judging. (Wait - didn't I just buy you new shoes yesterday or the day before? No, you bought me cleats yesterday. You bought me new shoes last week but those were indoor shoes. Of course. Why wouldn't I make eighteen trips to the same store for a hundred and fifty of the same item in the space of a week?)
Middle son reminded me research was supposed to have been brought in today for diorama project due Monday. I asked, "But don't you need it this weekend to get ready for your presentation?" Yes, they were supposed to bring it in to school and then back home again. (Why? Why? Why? That doesn't even make sense. Why do I always have so much homework for my kids' Grade One and Three classes?) There was a note from his teacher in his backpack. (OMG, Mommy got in trouble from the teacher.)
Back home, their sweaty hair plastered to their flushed red faces, they begged for frozen juice pops for snack. Sure. Checked the freezer. Only two juice pops left. Three children. Meant to make more. Snack fail. Watermelon in fridge, chopped up whole bloody thing, threw platter on coffee table and turned on Netflix. Not above having TV babysit my children when necessary.
Enormous pile of backpacks, lunchbags, agenda books, homework and library books strewn across all portions of kitchen counter not piled up with trailer-trash-esque food and booze waste disaster still left from last night and this morning. Kitchen beginning to look like episode of Hoarders. Could not face after-school tasks today. Could not. End of week, reached limit. Stuffed everything but lunchbags back in backpacks and hung in hall closet. Will revisit on Sunday. Hopefully no pressing homework or correspondence. Don't actually much care if there is.
Eldest calls from living room, "What's for dinner, Mom?" (Oh for God's sake, I forgot to defrost the roast. Dinner fail. At least I'm consistent.) Picked through fridge, found leftover chicken and veggies and greens. Chicken caesar salad. Also found leftover tuna casserole - tossed with ranch dressing and random herbs, served cold and called it pasta salad. Fooled children, not husband. Whatever.
Made it through rest of evening on autopilot. Cursed standard "late bedtime on weekends" policy.
Finally got kids to bed, straightened up kitchen. Not clean per se, but tidied away enough that an unexpected guest showing up wouldn't result in a visit from child services or the health department.
Went online for social media fix. Found: two emails from Parent Council President Mom reminding me about upcoming events, an email from Crazy Rep Mom setting up a telephone tree, snack list and carpool schedule, an email from Eldest Child's team manager reminding me about next weekend's tournament, an email from Middle Child's friend's mom reminding me about a party I already RSVP'd to at the exact same time as Eldest Child's tournament in another town. (How? How? How? I am the scheduling queen. I forget nothing. How could that have happened?) and a Facebook home page filled top to bottom with two Pinterest-obsessed mom friends' posts. Crafts. Homemade jams. Baking recipes. DIY upcycling home decor projects.
Um, no. Not today. Can't even look.
Some days, I do kind of feel like Super Mom.
Today is not one of those days.
You might also like...
Mommy needs a glass of wine
The myth of the stay-at-home-mom
Birthdays...a week long extravaganza