For those of you who might be inclined to think that there is no big difference experienced by those of us who add to our career, the experience of motherhood, think again. My experience is dramatically different before I even sit down at my desk at 8 a.m. A typical routine for me as a working mom does not include a quiet house as I put on make-up, select my clothes, and allow my mind to wander sampling mental bits and pieces. “Hmmm…. I wonder if I should wear my hoop earrings or the flowers today… It looks like it’s going to be in the 70’s today… Maybe I’ll check the weather report….” There is no lackadaisical routine wrapped up with a drive-through at Starbuck’s and a little talk radio in the car. Oh no. My morning routine is marked by the frantic throwing of make up in the general direction of my face, tearing a brush through my hair, and quickly jumping in clothes laid out the night before that I may or may not have had time to iron. (Today it was “may not”)
Why such the rush? Well, I’m not simply preparing myself for the day, I am also coaxing three little ones out of bed and off to school. Scattered in between my own pathetic attempts at grooming and packing are the orchestrated events involving three additional heads of hair, three complete outfits, three pairs of shoes, three breakfasts, two packed lunches , currently, one dose of antibiotics, and whatever moods and emotions are being served up for the day. Today, the mood of the day was “weepy and tired”. In spite of one whimpering on the couch instead of eating breakfast and another lying on the floor of the garage bathing it in tears, the miracle of the day was that we actually made it out the door on time. We popped over to the neighbors’ to pick up their children, swung by daycare to drop off the little guy, engaged in five minutes of coaxing his tired arms from around my leg, and were on our way to the kids’ school. Ms. Whimper on the couch whimpered in the car as well. While we did have a champ who was Little Ms. On-time today, she turned a corner when she discovered she forgot her lunch. Tears streamed down her face as she was haunted by thoughts of hot lunch, “I don’t like mashed potatoes!” In the midst of it all, Ms. Whimper asked to borrow my cell phone and began to type up her grievance and pass it to me - the car version of a secret.
We eventually made it to school. Hallelujah! On this particular day, I had to park the car and stop by the school office to buy new lunch tickets. This is when the day really got interesting. A few minutes after completing my office transaction, my friend’s daughter was escorted back to the office with a fat lip and a bloody face. Apparently she had tripped. I comforted her, coordinated with office personnel, and made multiple attempts to contact her mother on the phone to inform her that a permanent tooth was loose. My phone rang again, but in the midst of the mayhem, I missed the call. Upon checking voicemail, I soon discovered a message from daycare. Never a good sign. Listening to the message, I learned that my little man was not simply sleepy and grumpy. He had vomited. The next order of business as I race off to try to make my scheduled appointment (14 minutes and counting), was to make phone call #8: the dreaded conversation with my husband to see who might like to miss work for sick child duty.
“The messages we receive about mothering promise an Easymix lifestyle: having kids will prove not only fun and good for us, but will blend effortlessly with the other ingredients that go into making up the ‘good life’” ~Susan Maushardt of The Mask of Motherhood
Hmmmm…..
