Mamma Never Said There Would be Days Like This

Yesterday I woke up feeling refreshed, invigorated, and purposeful.

Today I didn't wake up at all.

Let me paint the picture. Yesterday, among normal work frustrations, I managed to drive home excited, looking forward to tomorrow (Which is today). I picked up the kids on time and finally took them swimming, which I had been promising them for the past two weeks. They had a blast; with mom's support and positive encouragement, my 7 yr. old finally dived in with her arm floats, my 10 yr. old was Aqua-man per usual, and although the little one stuck her ankles in and then ran back to mommy crying, they all walked away tired and happy. This was the goal.

We then proceeded to their godmother's house for pizza and snacks, to see her off before her 6 day chaperoning trip to Disneyland with a handful of her clients. (She works with developmentally disabled adults, and is AMAZING.) I helped her pack while the kids spent time outside with the next door neighbor kids, riding bikes and playing in the almost-summertime-air. I hadn't seen her in weeks, so we chatted, vented, and laughed. Later, the kids came in and we played and laughed with them until they giggled so hard their sides hurt.

Afterwards on the drive home (around 9 PM), we swung by the ice cream place for cones and some mother-child bonding. I think the topics "why I can't make friends at school" and "why should I love my sister/brother when they break my toy" was broken into. Granted, I would normally never encourage my children to eat sweets after 7 PM, but today was a good day and I was feeling the generous mood. Uh-oh. That's right, "feeling" is where so many things go wrong.

Fast-forward to 10 PM, the kids are all finally tucked in after brushing teeth and story time. The house was clean from the day before, so I sat down to finish the book I had been reading, my kitty snuggled at my feet. I turn out the lights at 10:30 and slide in a cool, soft bed. I hadn't made dinner, the kids had not fought all day, and they had not gone insane after ingesting sugar. I was even able to get 'me' time! Picture-perfect.

All day, I have been pretending like this morning didn't happen. Drowsy-eyed kids, socks flying everywhere, sloppy lunches thrown together, cereal spilled down their clean clothes. Frantic children and one stressed out mama. After dropping the kids off 20 minutes later than usual, I began the 30 minute drive to work. As I am the one who opens, it is imperative that I am on time. Once at work, my mood improved substantially.

Now, I am fully aware that, sans the 9 PM ice cream rendezvous and 10 PM bedtime, my nightmare of a morning may never had occurred. Yesterday I was an angel and my children adored me, today I was a hungry bear and my kids were fully terrified. But the issue here wasn't that it could have been prevented, but more of how it was handled when it did happen.

Any normal mother's response is to blame themselves. And truly, I could have avoided it entirely (I proclaim). But it makes one think, with all the stuff we put up with; the 'sister hit me!' and the food thrown on the floor, beds unmade for the 4th day in a row, last minute school events ('Oh, mom we have a play tonight at 7, I'm supposed to be the dinosaur'), tearful pleas for the toy/gadget/cereal on TV, millions of errands we have to run to keep our families fed-played-comfortable ON TOP of the actual paying jobs we hold to keep the bills paid; how can a child feel like they've gotten that special attention?

I always promised myself that as a single mother, I would strive to make every day special. That I wouldn't be a raving madman 363 days of the year, and a domestic goddess on birthdays and Christmas. I want my children to hear, see, and feel my love and devotion to them on a daily basis. I've set high standards for myself.

When a day like this comes up, it always makes me feel instantly guilty and fleetingly contemplative. Sometimes I feel inferior to the other women on the office who have busy lives, kids, and social circles who always seem to have it together.

But you know what? I don't think any of us really 'have it together.' No matter how consistent you family life is, how great your children are, or how much familial help you have, every one of us has days like this. We all wade through the muck and unpredictability of motherhood.

I just wish mamma would have told me there would be days like this!

And I maintain that one day in heaven makes up for one day in hell.