Let me tell you about my morning, listener out there. This morning, I woke up 6 painful minutes late. 7:06 am. Those 6 minutes cost me any sanity I might've maintained as I prepped the girls (and myself, sort of) for school. You see, they woke up early this morning. A whole hour EARLY. 6:30 am. And I woke up 6 minutes LATE. This means that they plugged into the television, which I typically don't allow in the morning, and they even had time to start a second show while I was in the shower--and it's that fatal second show that throws everything off. By 6 minutes.
This means that once I got out of the shower and located clothes that semi-match, socks, and shoes that don't match at all but are at least comfortable, they were still watching. And they weren't watching together, of course. Rosemary had Scooby Doo going on the TV in the living room, but since Scooby Doo has "bad guys," Olivia doesn't watch Scooby Doo. Instead, she grabbed the Kindle and used Netflix to access Bananas in Pajamas in her own bed, with her head covered by a pillow. And they were still watching at 7:36 am, exactly 6 minutes past the time I'd typically start waking them up, and their shows were ending at different times.
By the time I dislodged them from their shows and herded them into the kitchen for breakfast, we were more than those 6 measly minutes late and I was turning into the version of me that even I can't stand. The transformation happened in spite of the fact that I took more time than I should've to make myself a cup of coffee. (Making myself coffee wasn't optional--that was a necessity for the survival of others.) It's sort of like a train wreck. Once it starts, there's nothing I can do. I am Grumpy Mom. Once you've become Grumpy Mom, you can't just turn right back into Perky Pulled-Together and Socializing With Other Preschool Moms Mom. I am pretty sure I evolved into Grumpy Mom at precisely the moment I realized that I wasn't going to have any time to put on any makeup or eat any breakfast myself.
Anyway, I'll spare you the mundane details of me, now Grumpy Mom, nagging and cajoling my children into weather-appropriate clothes (Rosemary insisted on wearing a Pittsburgh Penguins jersey because her daddy's 'Guins are in the playoffs, and Olivia thinks wearing a skirt or dress is her official uniform, so God help us all if there are no skirts or dresses clean and ready to wear...), getting their teeth brushed and hair combed, resorting to guilt after trying to make getting ready first a competitive event didn't work. I'll spare you the images of me sighing a lot and freaking out in ways that would embarrass me if you had actually been there. The happy ending to this morning was that we all made it outside to wait on the bus in once piece, every girl holding her own umbrella while we stood in torrential rain. I loaded backpacks with lunches, snack, homework, a book for the bus, show and tell. On my way out the door, I even had a chance to grab a can of tuna for myself for lunch. This gave me hope that I might transform into something besides Grumpy Mom later in the day. See? Happy, happy.
Oh, but not so happy.
As we waited for the bus, I said, "Girls, Daddy might get to come home early today. His first track meet is supposed to be this afternoon, but I think it's going to be rained out." Rosemary's eyes lit up as if she'd just met Jesus. "MEET?! Daddy has a meet? Mommy, isn't Daddy wonderful? Doesn't he just have so many interests and doesn't he know so many things, and don't you think he's so interesting? I hope I am just like him."
If I'd eaten any breakfast, I'm pretty sure I'd have vomited right then. Not because there's anything wrong with the fabulous man who I chose to become the father of my children (who's obviously Parent of the Month at our house right now), but because Grumpy Mom is also Jealous Mom. When Grumpy Mom hears things, she doesn't see the good in them. They just piss her off. She's even more hungry and more tired because nobody realizes or cares that she had to run out to the grocery store at 7pm the night before so she could keep the family fed, or that she packed lunches on Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Bread at 10:57 that same night just because her kids like it and because she wanted the morning to go smoothly. Or that because of this, she slept in by 6 minutes, which ruined the rest of her morning. What she should've been doing instead is having interesting interests like watching hockey and coaching track, or studying up on obscure facts that one might be asked on Jeopardy. Then she feels guilty for being Grumpy Jealous Mom and she becomes Guilty Mom, which is possibly worse.
Poor Grumpy, Jealous, Guilty Mom. That lady had a tough morning. But, like a phoenix, she will rise from the ashes...so she can go pack lunches for tomorrow. photo credit: kevin dooley via photopin cc
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