#survive

Posted on | July 27, 2017 | 4 Comments

This morning, about fifteen minutes before it was time for my oldest to leave for camp, he informed me he didn’t have any clean athletic shorts. I walked into his room and saw that his dirty clothes basket had basically birthed quintuplets of dirty clothes.

“You didn’t wash my clothes,” he mumbled under his breath, sliding me firmly into the position I most often find myself: no matter how many things I do, it’s always the one or two things I don’t do that stand out.

Mothering is the ultimate self-esteem check.

No matter how hard I try, there’s never even one single moment when I have everything together. It’s always, at best, a 75% success rate and that’s basically when I only have four things to do which is … never. This morning alone, I had a list of a billion and a half things and I accomplished exactly four of them: I got both kids and myself out the door and I remembered to let the dogs inside. Sure, it took getting in the car and backing half way down the driveway while my two sweet pups stared forlornly at me from the backyard before I remembered to let them in, but dammit I remembered eventually! I even remembered to toss a bag of pop tarts in my purse for breakfast which is good because I discovered when I ran out of time for my breakfast yesterday that my office supply of food has dwindled to half a bag of croutons and two jars of blue cheese dressing.

I know that I can’t expect to do it all just like I can’t expect to have it all, but all that “knowing” doesn’t stop me from trying. I run around like a crazy lady, slapping on mascara while bouncing a baby on my hip, pulling together a processed food lunch for J that makes me feel like the worst mom ever except FEEDING HIM so there, and sometimes… SOMETIMES remembering to make myself a second cup of coffee and food of some sort. Banks would help if I asked, but most of the time everything is in such a delicate balance, including my sanity, that I fear letting him take something off my shoulders would only cause everything, including me, to fall apart.

Here in the office, there’s an overflowing in box and emails that need to be read. There’s an item that needs to be boxed up to return before tomorrow, and a delivery man that has to be met at the house at some point today for the delivery of the new dishwasher. There’s a list of eight phone calls to return and a brief to finish and several odds and ends that need tying up. Then when all that’s either finished or put aside for tomorrow, there’s that pile of laundry waiting on me so that there are clean shorts for tomorrow. And a dishwasher that needs to be hooked up so that I can stop hand washing all the dishes. And a floor full of crumbs to sweep. And a toilet that needs repairing. And sheets that need to be changed. And beds that need to be made.

Above all that, there are children that need to be loved and held and cuddled and read to. And a husband who deserves attention and love as well.

Then, let’s face it, at some point tomorrow morning, something I haven’t even thought of yet will de-rail it all and one or more of my family members will give me that look of disappointment that says “Why couldn’t you get this done” and I will spend the day making mental lists all over again so that no laundry is left behind.

So all of that? That is why I was totally NOT crying in the parking lot of daycare… if anyone was wondering.

 

 

Comments

4 Responses to “#survive”

  1. Lola M
    July 28th, 2017 @ 12:13 pm

    Let. Banks. Help. You. That is all. 🙂

  2. K
    July 30th, 2017 @ 8:46 pm

    I feel like I could have written this. Back to work FT as a law mama and it’s TOUGH. Oof.

  3. Winston
    July 31st, 2017 @ 2:04 pm

    Yes I think letting him help would be a great thing!! Laundry and school lunch the night before wouldn’t be too
    Much to ask but would make a world of difference for you!

  4. Sharon
    August 1st, 2017 @ 4:23 pm

    Aww. I’m sorry. As a full-time working attorney and mother of two, I can relate.

    Re the laundry, my rule for my 5-year-old sons is that if they don’t bring their dirty clothes to the laundry room, then they don’t get washed. It has led to a few situations like this one, but fortunately not many as they are learning to take some responsibility for their own clothes.

    Now to get them to wash, dry and put away their own laundry. . . baby steps.

Leave a Reply





  • Creative Commons License
    Spilled Milk (and Other Atrocities) by Law Momma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
    Based on a work at http://www.law-momma.com.
  • Twitter

  • Enter your email address:

    Delivered by FeedBurner

  •  


  • Grab my button for your blog!