Working Mom Mornings

Yesterday, I had an amazing morning with my kids.  The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the boys made their own breakfasts and lunches.  I showered.  We made it to school drop off early after having skipped all the way there…

Oh, wait.  Upon re-reading the paragraph above, I’m remembering something…

Yeah.  NONE of that happened.

The sun?  It wasn’t shining.  It was fucking hiding.  Behind layers of overcast, humid air.  There were no birds.  Just squirrels.  Lots of mangey fucking squirrels, desperately trying to murder the compost container on our back porch.  And though I repeatedly asked my beautiful, perfect, brilliant sons to make their breakfasts and lunches, they quickly became consumed in playing with the wax outer shell from the Baby Bell cheeses that they had grabbed from the fridge.  ”Could be for breakfast OR lunch, Mommy!”

And I most definitely did not shower. Which I would have had time to do if the boys had made their own fucking lunches.

Luckily, it was all cool because, well, I’m a roll-with-it kinda gal.  And by roll-with-it I mean super-hormonal, exhausted, and 5 months pregnant.  So, yes.  There was some yelling.  Hell, if a six year old and an eight year old can’t properly care for their crabby mother, what kind of world do we live in? WHAT KIND OF WORLD?

We didn’t skip to school.  We walked.  And we walked slowly.  Because Mommy’s uterus was not made for speed.  And it was ok because the boys chatted and played and ran ahead and then ran back and grabbed my hands and ran ahead again.  Because my boys are resilient creatures and a crabby, yelling mommy won’t break them.  But I knew I would get mine.  I always do on mornings like these – mornings where my kids apologize to ME, when I was the one channeling crazy.

And boom.  There it was.  My older one kissed me and ducked straight into school.  My little one kissed me and said goodbye as if nothing at all was amiss.  And there, on the street corner, I lost my shit.  But they both had a good day.  I’m sure (I hope) they didn’t give my crazy a second thought.  But, for me, even after I pulled myself together, I was a woman on the verge.

Nothing more awesome that being on the brink of tears at work.  Am I right, ladies?

This morning was a good morning.  Though the sun still wasn’t out, the boys made their own lunches.  And I only had to ask them twice.  Not too shabby.

Working Mom Rationale

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He Can’t Possibly Be Six.

Liji Bear,  You turned 6 over a whole month ago, but I couldn't get it together to write you a birthday letter until now.  The delay is partly because I can't wrap my mind around the fact that you're such a big boy.  It's also because, well, ...

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I’ve got this working mom shit down

I've been terrible about posting lately.  Like for the past year.  I used to write 2-3 times a week.  Now I'm lucky if I hit "publish" once a month.  This place once served to keep me sane.  It was my outlet and my entree to a divine community of women who I never would have ...

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Dear Sydney, Two weeks ago, you turned eight. It's taken me about that long to accept that the big boy who's standing in front of me, is the baby who, on January 21, 2006, had no intention of leaving my body of his own volition. You tell me ...

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