I went to Costco today because we were out of granola. And my family loves granola sprinkled on their yogurt. I had a shopping list, ya’ll—only a medium size one. And when I got home I had no granola and I had purchased a giant tub of sour cream instead of cottage cheese.
This all transpired right before dinner in the midst of the witching hour. And the day had already been rough. I was so over it. Nothing was going right. Nothing. Perhaps because it started at the ungodly time of 5:58 a.m. Yes, let’s partially blame it on that. My middle son, the early bird to my night owl, was awake. He was hungry. And he wanted to watch a movie. What the what?!?
I set the timer on my phone for an hour and handed it to him for an episode (or 10) of "PJ Masks" with strict instructions to return when the timer went off. Genius plan, take note of that timer strategy because it totally works!
That extra hour of sleep was glorious. Surely, I could now function on 5ish hours of broken sleep.
We left home in a rush for swim lessons. Not because we were late, but because I needed time to swing through the Starbucks drive-thru. As we pulled in, my oldest asked me why we went to Starbucks so much.
At swim, my son bolted, in Crocs too big for his feet, away from me and down the length of the lap pool. I was wearing my six-month-old in a carrier and couldn’t take off after him so I yelled, in my super serious mom voice, “Max! Stop!!!”
Everyone at the pool looked at me. Me, with no makeup, the not-hot kind of messy bun, and loungewear that should not have left the four walls of my home. Whatever. My kid didn’t fall into the pool or crack his head on the cement. Mission accomplished.
Sure, sweets for everyone before 11 a.m., why not?
Amidst the swim crisis, I promised Max a donut if he could pull it together and listen to his teacher. You see, donuts are his love language. He is also the king of sugar crashes, but I was desperate. My daughter who is gluten-free and overheard started crying knowing she wouldn’t be getting a donut too. Well done, Mom, well done. If one isn’t traumatized, the other is.
On our way home I stopped at the bank. My daughter asked if she could have a lollipop from the teller since she wouldn’t be getting a donut. Sure, sweets for everyone before 11 a.m., why not?
I left the bank and peeked in the rearview mirror as I merged into traffic on our way home. My daughter was crying. I had forgotten the lollipop. Seriously? Seriously. She said ice cream would fix it. Uh … I should have known that when the rooster crowed at 5:58 that today would potentially sink me.
We then ventured on to a fun and educational kid’s class at the harbor called Marine Creature Monday. Touch tanks and divers and ocean facts galore! What could go wrong? I had pre-registered weeks ago in an attempt to make our summer full of meaningful activities. I should have known better.
I brought my mom along to help me keep all three kids safe since the class was held on the dock. We slathered on sunscreen, buckled them in life vests, and answered a hundred questions about why we were torturing them in the heat instead of letting them lounge in the A/C at home. “Fun,” I said through gritted teeth, “we are doing this to have fun! You’re going to LOVE it! Just wait until you get to touch a starfish!!!”
Marine Creature Monday fell during the start of nap time and it truly was hot. I should have known it was a disaster waiting to happen. We thanked the instructor and left early.
I tried. I really, really tried.
And even with all my good intentions, I still missed sunscreen on my baby’s ears. Because, well, just because. Why wouldn’t I?
Nap time was a triple success, so I had that going for me. And even though my middle one refused dinner, bedtime went pretty smooth. Had the Costco fiasco not happened, I would almost say the latter half of the day was a win.
I’d love to share something awe-inspiring and motivational about motherhood right about now. But this is all I’ve got. Sometimes days are just rough. And I think that’s OK. At least I’m telling myself that. The inevitable is that I’m going to forget things, I’m going to be the mom falling apart in public, I’m going to make dumb parenting decisions.
It isn’t all rainbows and unicorns being a mom and you know that, but I wanted you to know that another mom is struggling right along side you. We’re in this together so, go us! Let’s do our best and try again tomorrow.
Even if that means tomorrow begins too bright and too early.