To say parenthood is tough would be an understatement. One mother was happy to share with PLN how her mornings have changed as a mom of three.
As a mom, I find myself doing a walk of shame almost every day. No matter how much I try to talk myself into good behaviour the night before, I still find my poor choices on full display each and morning in full view of my children.
I am, of course, talking about the school drop off.
This year is the first that I have had all three of my daughters in school. In years past, a well-placed blanket in the stroller could disguise a kid still in their pajamas, but this year not only are my children’s fashion choices on display-but so are mine.
Snoozing my way into panic
My mad morning dash always begins the same way. I usually start off with me hitting snooze on my alarm clock and falling back asleep until I inevitably wake up in a panic with at least one child in my bed each morning. They are often the reason for my broken sleep and inability to resist the snooze button.
Once each child has gotten their first wake up call, I will attempt to get in the shower and wash off the worst of my stress.
If I am lucky, my shower will be interrupted several times by children fighting (at least they are conscious) but more likely than not, I will emerge from my shower to a damp child-sized towel and three children who are still asleep.
Their second wake up call consists of turning on lights and threatening to pick out their outfits. Their sweet morning mom has turned into a drill sergeant.
At this point, I generally slip into my ‘uniform’ of yoga pants and a mom bun. If I am lucky, I manage some deodorant before I start the breakfast routine of offering my children food they will refuse to eat. It’s always a time-consuming challenge that threatens my sanity.
The perfect storm
It is usually around this point in the morning that the fashion show starts. My kids insist on picking their own clothes and as such I find myself battling my five-year-old out of fleece pants in 30-degree weather and tackling my kids to the ground to attempt to run a brush through their hair.
On a good day, I can manage to make the kids look like they are reasonably well cared for, on a bad day my kids look like my homeless afterthoughts.
We have a lot of bad days.
There is generally a lull around the breakfast mark when I feel like I may get the chance to drink a coffee. I will usually get as far as making one, but rarely will I get a chance to drink it because this lull is often known as ‘the perfect storm’.
This is generally the time that I will find important notices in backpacks that need my attention right away.
One kid will drop an entire bowl of cereal on the floor or let me know that is ‘superhero day’ and they need a costume or everyone will know what a hot mess their mom is.
The daily walk
By the time I have the kids strapped into the car, I have already fought a battle. Like most parents, I am often frustrated to the point of tears, going on no coffee and little sleep and yet I still have to do the walk.
It’s the walk all parents must do with their kids each morning to drop them off at school. I always regret not taking the time to pick out a nicer outfit or putting on a little lip balm or spending the extra few minutes on my hair the moment I step out of my car.
Thank goodness for sunglasses.
I also have a daughter who has no filter and will often slam the kindergarten gate on me because she didn’t get to watch YouTube at breakfast. She will turn her back to me and stomp away while I watch other moms debate with their six-year-olds who will miss the other more.
Now that I am back to work I often go to the office in the mornings and so I have a different walk of shame. It’s the walk of a mother who has chosen to blow dry her hair rather than listen to the morning banter. Who leaves soon after the first wake up call and doesn’t get home until supper. My kids hate that I am not there, but I know it is so good for them to see me working hard for our family.
What is it about parenting and guilt that seems to go hand-in-hand? As hard as these mornings are, I miss them when I am not there. As crazy as my kids are, I enjoy being their hot mess mom.
*Opinions expressed are those of the author, and not necessarily those of Parent Life Network or their partners.