This is not meant to offend. It is satire of my life. I was always told if you can't laugh at yourself, then life is too depressing to live.
It all starts innocently enough. As a stay at home mom, you start your day with an agenda. Granted your agenda is so big that even an entire army could not complete the tasks in a day, but your responsibilities are viewed as life and death for your family.
As you roll out of bed, you have this fantasy of being able to just lay in your pajamas all day relaxing. Instead, most likely, you find yourself in your pajamas because you never had the opportunity to shower. So what if the other parents stare at the school pick-up line?
So begins the day.
"I forgot to make lunches last night," I yell at my husband who mysteriously never has a problem getting him self dressed.
I am running around the house half dressed looking for clothes for my daughter. What am I doing, I think to myself. "Get yourself dressed first then find clothes for your daughter. It is just like the airplane scenario."
I stand trying to decide what to wear. Do I dress nice for the 30 minutes I am school today cutting laminate during my daughter's speech class or dress for the day of cleaning I am to do?
Who left the door open? It is freezing. Why is the dog chewing leaves in the house? Where was I? Oh, getting dressed. Hence the reason the neighbors are staring as I throw out leaves.
Shwoo! Just dress warm and get it done. Already late for school.
"What are you doing?" I ask my husband.
"Getting Hannah's shoes."
"Is she dressed (why am I looking through her closet if she is)?
"Probably not like you want her to be"
"What did you pick out," I ask fearfully.
"It doesn't match. I'll get new pants."
"If you knew it didn't match, why did you put it on her."
We are now super late. My son walks out the door twice without his backpack. "Where does he get it from?"
We start to pull out and I realize I left my daughter's speech folder. My husband and I argue on who is getting out in the cold to go back in. I run in grumbling not nice things under my breath.
Drop son off. Drop husband off. Drive back to school. Get out as the kids in my daughter's speech class are driving off.
"Class was canceled. Teacher is sick," a father yells from his car.
It is only 9 a.m. Needless to say, this is an excuse to stop for coffee. After all, nothing is better then an ADD mom on caffeine. Groceries are easily distracted as I change our menu five times because of sales.
Finally home. Finally get to do work.
"Can I ride my motorcycle," a sweet four-year-old asks.
"I have to take the dog out anyway."
The next half hour was spent going from chasing the dog to the daughter. Who knew a four year old on a motorcycle could be so crazy. She drove the entire cul de sac backwards.
"Drive forward!"
"Why"
"That chicken sure is loud," she says.
"It sure is!" Wait, don't change the subject, drive forward and sit down!"
Finally, it is time to work. Except I remember that I feel guilty that my daughter isn't in preschool five days a week.
"Do you want to do some work too?" I ask.
"Yes, what kind of work."
We begin working on writing letters as the dog knocks us over trying to get us to play. I find myself getting more and more frustrated as I write one way and she writes the other.
"I just want to do it like this."
"I know, sweetie, but when you get to kindergarten, they will want you to write like this."
"Why"
Please kill me now. I try to work, but between the dog, her questions and an endless mess, I really look like a chicken with its head cut off.
I imagine my day ending like this.
"Mom, can I go play basketball," my son asks.
"Sure take the dog with you!"
I begin to cook meatballs. Set the timer. Run to the bathroom to see that I have email Twenty minutes later of being on Facebook, I realize I don't hear bouncing outside anymore. I call 9-1-1 because my son is no longer outside.
"What were you doing at the time your son went missing," the policeman asks.
"I was sending Flair on Facebook."
"Do you have a picture or description of your son?"
"Yes, he kind of looks like that kid running down the street chasing a dog."
"Ma'am is that fire coming from your house?"
"Why yes, it is. That would be the meatballs that are now on fire."
"My wife makes the best meatballs," the policeman would respond.
"Really, let me get a notebook. I obviously need that recipe now."
"But your house is burning"
"Let it burn! Only way the work will get taken care of anyway!"
Granted this is all fictional. But I am sure it is not far from happening with my absent mind. Speaking of, my son is waiting at school. Better find him. Wonder if I have time to post this article first. ;0
