Feeling Like a Mom: When I provide and/or cook a healthy meal for my kids.
Feeling Like a Mom Mess: When I plop down cold Pop Tarts and call it a day.
Feeling Like a Mom: When I sort the laundry, launder it while removing stubborn stains and sewing buttons on shirts, distribute it, and my kids stack it neatly, promptly and in the right drawers.
Feeling Like a Mom Mess: When I run out of detergent, my kid needs a clean uniform that night, and he needs to dig around in the dirty laundry in order to dress for school in what turns out to be grass-stained jeans, a shirt with a hole, and waterlogged, muddy sneakers, and, BTW, it’s picture day.
Feeling Like a Mom: When I cook a real dinner, gather all the necessities for whatever the kids’ evening activity is, am early and ready to go, smiling children in tow, solo.
Feeling Like a Mom Mess: The dinner I need to cook is missing a vital ingredient that I don’t have time to pick up, so I slop together a mish-mash of scanty, possibly stale leftovers; yell at them because I realize their VIP (very important project) due tomorrow isn’t done; they’re not dressed, accessorized or ready to go for tonight’s activity; the fuel gauge is on empty, and my husband forgot to give me gas money, so I have to dig around illicitly in my kids’ piggy banks for petty cash; and arrive to find the activity cancelled.
Feeling Like a Mom: When bedtime goes smoothly, early; lunches are made, kids happily tucked in, and there’s enough time for snuggling without worrying that I didn’t get this or that done, easily and comfortably falling asleep in one of their beds.
Feeling Like a Mom Mess: Reprimanding breaks out because their rooms are an utter mess at late o’clock on a school night; lunches yet to be made, and we may be out of bread; they don’t brush their teeth, food and grime crusting over their once pearly whites and expect me to brush them; they get angry because I insist that they clean said rooms and teeth. Then they deny me goodnight hugs and kisses, leaving me with sulking, swatting, sassy kids who won’t sleep.
Feeling Like a Mom: Everyone is dressed, fed, with lunches in hand and at the bus stop with time to spare, and I’m already dressed, bound for errands or a coffee date and completely ahead with my housework.
Feeling Like a Mom Mess: No one is dressed, barely took two bites, one forgets their lunch, one misses their bus, so I end up driving them sans shower, in dirty pajamas, hair that hasn’t been washed in two days with an appointment scheduled in about an hour, and the car breaks down at school, and I realize I left my phone at home. Then it hits me – I drank decaf coffee!
Feeling Like a Mom: Perfect gifts are bought, wrapped and waiting; balloons and streamers adorning our home; cupcakes/brownies made for school and special birthday cake ordered; and amazing party planned for their birthdays.
Feeling Like a Mom Mess: No idea what to buy them on their birthdays; hoping the bakery down the street has cupcakes or something (is pepperoni bread appropriate?) to send to school that morning; no time or money to plan a party with relatives pestering you about why there is no party, and when can they come over to see the birthday boy/girl when every weekend is booked solid with appointments, practices and other kids’ birthday parties; no wrapping paper or cards handy, and the tape ran out last Christmas.
Feeling Like a Mom: When school is not in session, playdates and/or fun day trips are planned with lunch out and plenty of entertaining activities at home to choose from. No one gets up too early, so you can quietly sip your coffee but wakes up refreshed and ready to go at a decent, human hour.
Feeling Like a Mom Mess: Nothing scheduled but housework; the kids are bored, leading to petty fighting; you’re exhausted and depressed at early o’clock by the process of a cantankerous day of trying to keep the kids from killing each other, stay entertained and out of your hair; no money for lunch and nothing but gluey-looking leftover macaroni and cheese in the fridge. And it’s pouring outside, and you desperately need to go out for tampons because Aunt Flo is early!
This is an original post for JerseyMomsBlog by M.B. Sanok, who can also be found at her Blog, Maple Brown Sugar.