The Straw

I had a generally craptastic weekend (with one or two high points). Last night, I finally threw in the towel at 11 p.m., even though it looked as if the Steelers were going to throw away a comfortable lead in the fourth quarter AGAIN.

I woke up at 3:15 this morning.

The children woke up at 3:45 a.m., which was just dandy considering I hadn’t managed to fall back to sleep in any case.

I tried to get to sleep in between the two of them, in the guest bed — because we hadn’t put clean sheets on our bed yet — and that didn’t go well either. Kate dropped back off, although she cried out for me a couple of times; and Flora was Squirmy McSquirmerson, and she kept sticking her elbows and knees into various parts of my anatomy. Between my racing thoughts — oh and what quicksilver, anxiety-producing thoughts they were — the mouth-breathing Kate, and the restless Flora (who apparently has Ginsu knives concealed at her knees and elbows), sleep proved impossible.

At 4:30, I went downstairs.

At 5 a.m., Kate woke again, sobbing for me. I ran upstairs. Dan took Flora to sleep with him, and I calmed Kate and laid down with her again.

At 5:05 a.m., I fell back to sleep. At 6 a.m., the alarm on my cell phone went off. After hitting snooze a couple of times, I must have turned it off.

Because the next time I woke up, it was 7:37 a.m. Which means I was already late for work, and it was entirely likely that Flora was going to be late for preschool.

And then, I walked into Flora’s preschool room at 8:30 a.m. (15 minutes late) and was informed that it was Picture Day (which I knew, I mean, I have a note on my calendars and everything, but I had utterly forgotten), and the money was due. I simply told the teacher (who was very kind) that I was sorry, I did not have the time to fill out the form, and in any case, I didn’t have my checkbook with me (primarily because I am out of checks; they are on order, and I hope they get to me in the next week or so). And it took pretty much all of my self-possession, which is in very short supply as of late, to not scream I’M ALREADY AN HOUR LATE, and break down sobbing.

I gave Flora a big hug before I left, and told her, in so many words, that I was so sorry for being a complete failure as a mother — you should have seen the girls in her class, in dresses with their hair done, and there was my little girl, her hair unbrushed (although clean!) in a pair of pink leggings and a flowered pink long-sleeve t-shirt. And then I pretty much ran to my car, where I proceeded to sob for about 10 minutes or so.

I’d like to close this post out in some positive or witty way. Like: the pumpkin scone and coffee from Starbucks saved Monday from being a complete disaster. Or: but then I dried my tears and resolved to be better at this whole juggling thing. Or, hell: I dried my tears and a voice from heaven said, lay down your weary head and rest my child, and I could call into work saying that God had ordered me to go home and go back to bed.

But instead I’m feeling just as bleak now as I was at 8:30 this morning. And, frankly, I don’t see it getting too much better. As a matter of fact, it may just get worse. And I’m not really sure what I’m going to do about that.

10 thoughts on “The Straw

  1. Aw, you are a great mom, one who totally deserves the sangria. None of us are perfect, not the moms of the girls you saw this morning, none of us. So sorry you are getting the short end of all the sticks. Your girls love you beyond measure and it WILL get better.

    • Thanks, Kim, I do appreciate it. I’m glad that Flora was too young to know what she was missing out on. If she were a little older, she probably would have reminded me!

      And when I called Dan (crying), he actually went to the school and took care of it. I hope someone brushed her hair.


  2. I’m sorry you had such a rough night and day.

    About the pictures–they probably do them twice a year. My experience with the photos is that they are crappy. I am surprised you have to pay for them up front. The companies that the various daycares the girls have attended always had a reveal day where the parents came and then they sold you more than you needed upon seeing the photos.

    At any rate, you are a good mommy. It’s just that some days really, really, really suck. Really.

    • The pictures snuck up on me. Really, they are primarily for the “yearbook” such as it is — this is Flora’s pre-school (St. J’s). I’ll have to see if they do them twice a year.

      Yeah, they have you choose a package and pay up front. I don’t know what happens if you don’t like the pictures. Maybe the do-over day is free! (yeah, right)

      And thank you. I know I’m a good mommy, and there are sucky days, but lately I’m so stressed, I don’t even know which keys to use to unlock my house.

      Ciao, rpm

  3. Hey chica,
    I’m sure it isn’t any consolation but I’m right there on the edge with you. If you find a way down, please throw me a rope. I’ll do the same if I find one. In the meantime, have a glass of wine (or 6) for both of us. I’m trying to just take one day at a time. It’s all I can do. And I don’t even do that well.

    • I know. The one-day-at-a-time mantra hasn’t been working well for me lately either. I suspect it has something to do with my days not being done in a timely fashion, or the fact that they start at 3:15 in the morning. Oy.

      Hang in there. I will happily down some wine for you!


  4. I will offer some Mary Sunshine to your post!
    I am willing to bet that this picture will be your favorite one for years to come.

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