That's right, a Taylor Swift reference. I wouldn't be cool if I couldn't find some way to work pop culture into my blog. Like Taylor Swift's ex, I am never ever ever, getting back together with my shit. In fact, we were never actually together. We went on a few dates. Made plans. Talked about our future together. But alas, it never worked out. If you have your shit together, don't waste time reading this. It's not going to enhance your life one bit. But, if you are like me, have at it ladies. And man. I heard once, thru the grapevine, that there was a man that read this blog so I will include him too.
Take a stroll down memory lane with me. All the way back to say.....this morning. Can you remember that far back? Take a minute and gather your mess of thoughts. Your alarm went off and you hit snooze. Like 5 times, am I right? Now you are screwed for the rest of the morning. You got in the shower 25 minutes late. You hate all of your clothes. The one shirt you wanted to wear today is in the wash because you fell asleep on the couch last night before you had a chance to throw it in the dryer. You had the best of intentions. You could have sworn you had your hair brush yesterday but now it's gone. It was probably hijacked by one of your children as a make shift lightsaber. That's ok, you can use your fingers and make a less tangled mess of your hair. Now you are all ready, but still 25 minutes late. Just grab your shoes and you're ready to get the kids up. Where's your other shoe? Fine, you pick a different pair. There's only one of those as well. You start wondering if anyone would notice one flat and one wedge and your slight limp at work all day...Next stop, kids rooms. Neither will get up. You leave them in bed, head down stairs to pack the lunches you didn't pack last night while you were sleeping on the couch waiting for the only shirt you like to be washed. You frantically search for something that looks remotely healthy to pack. Peaches pre-packed in syrup seems healthy. Add a sandwich and a yogurt, done. You let the dogs out. You look for pee on the floor in case your dogs had other plans. You go back up stairs. You get half way up the stairs and go back down and turn the coffee maker on. You go back up stairs, again. The kids are still asleep and your husband is pretending to get ready. You start making threats that sound something like this "If you don't get out of bed you will have to walk to school" or "If mommy is late to work one more time because you all don't want to get up, she will get fired and have no money to buy you toys". You stand in the hallway gazing into the kids rooms. One moves a bit and the other is staring at you thru the crib bars. You then drag the older one of of his bed and carry him to the dark bathroom to go pee and get dressed. You abandon ship and go back for the little one and he declares he wants daddy. You yell for your husband. No answer. It's possible he's fallen back asleep or is silently praying for a quieter wife. You are now belittled to begging your children to get up and get dressed. Literally begging. Next stop, psycho mom. Now you have one kid dressed and they both want to be carried at the same time down the steps, with 16 stuffed animals, each. You make it downstairs, drop both kids off in the kitchen, go back up for the little one's clothes, turn off the lights, yell again for your husband and race down the steps. You almost fall in your 4 inch wedges and have a mini heart attack all while wondering if you should have just gone barefoot for the day. Back on the main level two dogs want food, two kids want milk, you can't find your phone, your keys are missing and someone just remembered that today is show and tell. Now two dogs have food, two kids have milk, one kid has one shoe, the other kid is crying because there is nothing to take for show and tell, the keys are still missing and your phone has been in your back pocket the entire time. How do you know this? Because you just received a notification that your husband just replied to your text you sent him, 19 hours ago. You get the little one dressed, the big one is still crying and the missing keys are in the front door, where you left them after you got home the night before just before arguing with your husband about the importance of dead bolting the front door for the safety of your family. Hello robber, just use the keys I've left for you. Husband arrives downstairs, kids are getting whatever shoes on that have a match and your son is taking a sporting event novelty with a beer logo on it for show and tell. Everyone shuffles out the door, back packs, purses, travel mugs, keys. Lock the door. No one put the dog in her kennel. Husband goes back in, you get the kids in the cars and realize you may or may not have unplugged your straightener. You run for the door before you husband locks it again and race past him, up the stairs in your wedges, around the corner to find that you actually did unplug your straightener. Down the steps again and out the door. Everyone in their cars and you wave good bye to eachother. There's just one thing, your gas light is on.
All of this. All of this before I even make it to work.
Remember when you were younger and you always looked up to people that seemingly had their shit together? I always looked up to my sisters and thought, 'Now there's two girls that really know how to run a house'. I still feel that way. I have one sister who organizes every family event beautifully and another sister that can calculate just how much cash you will need on a 6 day trip, minus taxes, plus gratuity, divided by the amount of meals per person, times the currency difference, or something. I leave all planning up to them. They literally amaze me. I remember telling my husband that I would be much better organized once we moved to a bigger place. All that did was create more non-shit-togetherness. More places to put bills to be paid. More places to lose my phone. More doors to leave my keys in. Years later I still have piles of papers on the kitchen counter. I still couldn't tell you half the time where the social security cards are, where I put the calendar of events for my son's school and I could have sworn I bought more vanilla extract, but where the hell is it? I am always last minute on birthday gifts, dinner plans, and doctor's appointments. Some nights we have Ramen or Kraft Mac-n-Cheese for dinner. Some nights we don't have what would be considered a real dinner at all. Some nights I stay up cashing in my bad luck, some nights I call it a draw....
The point is, there is no 'having your shit together' standard. If having no dinner plans and a washer full of 3 day old damp clothes is what works for me, then fine. But, there is one thing. One thing I know for sure. My family is happy.
Moms, you are not alone. If no one else in the world gets you, know that I do. I don't even pretend anymore to have my shit together. I have learned to work well under pressure. I can pull off almost anything last minute. I embrace my inner mess. I am me. The best me I can be.
Until next time (when I will no doubt forget my password to this blog and spend 3 hours resetting it...)
-H
Take a stroll down memory lane with me. All the way back to say.....this morning. Can you remember that far back? Take a minute and gather your mess of thoughts. Your alarm went off and you hit snooze. Like 5 times, am I right? Now you are screwed for the rest of the morning. You got in the shower 25 minutes late. You hate all of your clothes. The one shirt you wanted to wear today is in the wash because you fell asleep on the couch last night before you had a chance to throw it in the dryer. You had the best of intentions. You could have sworn you had your hair brush yesterday but now it's gone. It was probably hijacked by one of your children as a make shift lightsaber. That's ok, you can use your fingers and make a less tangled mess of your hair. Now you are all ready, but still 25 minutes late. Just grab your shoes and you're ready to get the kids up. Where's your other shoe? Fine, you pick a different pair. There's only one of those as well. You start wondering if anyone would notice one flat and one wedge and your slight limp at work all day...Next stop, kids rooms. Neither will get up. You leave them in bed, head down stairs to pack the lunches you didn't pack last night while you were sleeping on the couch waiting for the only shirt you like to be washed. You frantically search for something that looks remotely healthy to pack. Peaches pre-packed in syrup seems healthy. Add a sandwich and a yogurt, done. You let the dogs out. You look for pee on the floor in case your dogs had other plans. You go back up stairs. You get half way up the stairs and go back down and turn the coffee maker on. You go back up stairs, again. The kids are still asleep and your husband is pretending to get ready. You start making threats that sound something like this "If you don't get out of bed you will have to walk to school" or "If mommy is late to work one more time because you all don't want to get up, she will get fired and have no money to buy you toys". You stand in the hallway gazing into the kids rooms. One moves a bit and the other is staring at you thru the crib bars. You then drag the older one of of his bed and carry him to the dark bathroom to go pee and get dressed. You abandon ship and go back for the little one and he declares he wants daddy. You yell for your husband. No answer. It's possible he's fallen back asleep or is silently praying for a quieter wife. You are now belittled to begging your children to get up and get dressed. Literally begging. Next stop, psycho mom. Now you have one kid dressed and they both want to be carried at the same time down the steps, with 16 stuffed animals, each. You make it downstairs, drop both kids off in the kitchen, go back up for the little one's clothes, turn off the lights, yell again for your husband and race down the steps. You almost fall in your 4 inch wedges and have a mini heart attack all while wondering if you should have just gone barefoot for the day. Back on the main level two dogs want food, two kids want milk, you can't find your phone, your keys are missing and someone just remembered that today is show and tell. Now two dogs have food, two kids have milk, one kid has one shoe, the other kid is crying because there is nothing to take for show and tell, the keys are still missing and your phone has been in your back pocket the entire time. How do you know this? Because you just received a notification that your husband just replied to your text you sent him, 19 hours ago. You get the little one dressed, the big one is still crying and the missing keys are in the front door, where you left them after you got home the night before just before arguing with your husband about the importance of dead bolting the front door for the safety of your family. Hello robber, just use the keys I've left for you. Husband arrives downstairs, kids are getting whatever shoes on that have a match and your son is taking a sporting event novelty with a beer logo on it for show and tell. Everyone shuffles out the door, back packs, purses, travel mugs, keys. Lock the door. No one put the dog in her kennel. Husband goes back in, you get the kids in the cars and realize you may or may not have unplugged your straightener. You run for the door before you husband locks it again and race past him, up the stairs in your wedges, around the corner to find that you actually did unplug your straightener. Down the steps again and out the door. Everyone in their cars and you wave good bye to eachother. There's just one thing, your gas light is on.
All of this. All of this before I even make it to work.
Remember when you were younger and you always looked up to people that seemingly had their shit together? I always looked up to my sisters and thought, 'Now there's two girls that really know how to run a house'. I still feel that way. I have one sister who organizes every family event beautifully and another sister that can calculate just how much cash you will need on a 6 day trip, minus taxes, plus gratuity, divided by the amount of meals per person, times the currency difference, or something. I leave all planning up to them. They literally amaze me. I remember telling my husband that I would be much better organized once we moved to a bigger place. All that did was create more non-shit-togetherness. More places to put bills to be paid. More places to lose my phone. More doors to leave my keys in. Years later I still have piles of papers on the kitchen counter. I still couldn't tell you half the time where the social security cards are, where I put the calendar of events for my son's school and I could have sworn I bought more vanilla extract, but where the hell is it? I am always last minute on birthday gifts, dinner plans, and doctor's appointments. Some nights we have Ramen or Kraft Mac-n-Cheese for dinner. Some nights we don't have what would be considered a real dinner at all. Some nights I stay up cashing in my bad luck, some nights I call it a draw....
The point is, there is no 'having your shit together' standard. If having no dinner plans and a washer full of 3 day old damp clothes is what works for me, then fine. But, there is one thing. One thing I know for sure. My family is happy.
Moms, you are not alone. If no one else in the world gets you, know that I do. I don't even pretend anymore to have my shit together. I have learned to work well under pressure. I can pull off almost anything last minute. I embrace my inner mess. I am me. The best me I can be.
Until next time (when I will no doubt forget my password to this blog and spend 3 hours resetting it...)
-H
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