How many people do we have to be in one day? Let’s see there is of course to mother, the house keeper, the dry cleaner, the negotiator, the gourmet chef, the chauffeur, the accountant, the psychiatrist, the doctor…and that is just what you have to be to your husband! Ha Ha!
No really, from the moment you wake up in the morning. From the very second you hear that nasty little screeching alarm at 6:15, you have to start the race. Someone may as well fire the starting pistol because that is what it feels like to me. My brain is on instant overdrive, abuzz with all I must accomplish and all I must organize in this next 10-12 hour period of time. We must not only prepare ourselves for this day but chances are we must also ready a couple of children, a dog, a cat, and probably a husband. From the, “Honey, where is my other black dress shoe?” to the, “Mom I can’t find my book bag!” you’ve already become a private detective and crime scene analyst and you haven’t even brushed your teeth yet. But wait there is more…so much more. You must now dress yourself in a somewhat stylish outfit despite the nest that is your hair, apply a modest amount of make-up to hide the black bags under your eyes, and make the bed you and your spouse both slept in all by yourself. You proceed to the kitchen where you must prepare a moderately healthy breakfast free from steroids, hormones, pesticides, trans fats and cholesterol. Oh and did I mention that it must taste good, and not just to one person but to all of them When (not if) it is rejected you must be prepared to offer a second and sometimes even third alternative to your first unacceptable creation lest you be considered inconsiderate or un-nurturing. If you are lucky you might have some time to put that nest of yours up in a somewhat stylish fashion before you balance the check book since your husband keeps using the debit card and forgetting to tell anyone or write anything down anywhere. Oh no! Now it’s 7:30 and the kids aren’t dressed and the missing book bag has not been located. Wait! Before you run off to tackle that you must throw in a load of laundry and carry up a basket of clean clothes that hopefully the cat hasn’t slept on. Now where were we? Oh yes… You must proceed to wrestle down the untamable two year old boy who refuses to keep his diaper on, get him dressed while he is writhing about like a pile of snakes. Once that is finished you grab a few diapers to add to the diaper bag because we are all about multi-tasking and consolidating our steps. I have a tip! If you turn off a light and shut the door of the room you have just left when all the tasks in that room have been completed you can check it off your list as you go. Otherwise you will most likely forget what it is you still have left to do and where. This little practice at least narrows the field. Next you must wrangle the second child, a girl who has just figured out that she is a fashion goddess and must pick out her very own clothes. You must try to negotiate a deal with her…. Hmmm if she wears what she wants to wear the other mothers at pre-school might think you are running a toddler brothel! So you must become David Copperfield and perform the most impressive magic act of getting her to wear what you want her to all the while letting her believe she was the one who chose it. Not too hard at the age of 4 but she is catching on. So as you both head off to find the now pant-less little brother you continually compliment her on her choice of outfits for the day and tell her how smart and pretty she looks. Pants back on the boy and grab the Mr. Clean too since in the three minutes you were out of his sight he has written on the walls in pen. Just then your spouse comes around the corner with a look of disappointment on his face and says, “Honey, I can’t get ready for work with the kids always in my things, I can’t find my deodorant anywhere and I think the boy may have been playing with it. I just need you to keep him out of my drawer. I’m not trying to be a jerk but you have no idea how hard it is for me to get ready with them under foot.” You smile and say, “Ok dear.” All the while you are thinking…I HAVEN’T SHOWERED IN THREE DAYS! You tidy up from breakfast run a quick vacuum over the carpet replace the pillows on the couch and when you get the boy to stop jumping around you put on their coats and head for the door folks. You are now going over in your head all the rooms with closed doors, all the appliances that have been turned off and unplugged, the animals that have been fed and watered, the show and tell item you placed in the book bag the night before…. Ah ha! The missing book bag! Where could it be? You tell the kids to wait by the door while you go look. Really you’d like to go ahead and strap them in the car while you look since you know the boy as soon as you turn your back will be jumping on the couch again but that would be child abuse leaving your kids strapped into their car seats in the car that is parked in your garage. You can hear the gasps of horror in your head, “Oh my no... You should never leave them unsupervised. One of you little Einsteins may figure out how to get their seat straps unfastened and then hot wire the car and drive it off into the sunset! Oh no you mustn’t do that!” So you tell them to stand still and off you go to search. The boys hiding places are predictable and even though it only took a few minutes when you come back all the cushions are on the floor, coats are off, hair is messed up, and the boy’s shirt is soaked in steroid free organic soy milk from his “leak proof” sippy cup. You change him, replace the couch cushions, and put the coats back on. You close the last door and you are totally and completely exhausted and it is only…8:03. Good morning and welcome to motherhood in 2009!
I could go on for at least 10 more pages detailing very specifically the events of the day but it is 2:30 in the morning and this is really me. Really a mommy who is writing this blog and I really do need to get at least a few little hours of sleep or this scene that I go through every morning will truly unbearable tomorrow. So I leave you with this for now. How in the world does one manage this without some form of pharmaceutical intervention?