Supermom? Nope. Undercover disaster? You betcha. I am apparently pretty good at making people think I’ve got my shit together (or maybe I’m not). But the truth is, every day, I need a do-over. This isn’t just a once a year thing like the New Year decision to join a gym or quit smoking or find a new job (although quitting my “job” frequently seems like a good idea around 6:00 pm). At the end of every day, once the circus dies down and I’ve had about an hour to scald my skin off in a hot bath and numb my brain on some terrible crime TV (which helps in making me feel like I’m not doing as badly as a serial killer mom), I decide that tomorrow is a new day. I’ll be a better mom to these sweet girls of mine. So I vow to try my best to be the supermom I want to be and this is usually how it goes:

6:30 am: I’m not going to fight with the kids to get out of bed. I’m not going to bark at them like a rabid dog. I’m going to joyfully wake them up by letting them hear birds chirping as soon as I open the blinds.

6:45 am: Kids are still drooling on pillows and can’t hear the chirping birds over the sound of their own whining and the dogs are about to pee on the carpet so I start throwing uniform clothes at them and yelling at them that THIS is the reason they aren’t allowed to stay up late watching TV and I storm out the door.

6:55 am: I am not going to feed them a sugary breakfast. I am going to make them something delicious and healthy to start their day; brain food as my dad used to call it (but now that I think about it I used to throw that “brain food” on the ground for the dogs to eat when he wasn’t looking).

7:00 am: Oh yeah, that’s right…my kids hate healthy foods so I threaten to let them go to school hungry but then I cave because I’m a wimp. I throw some  chocolate chip waffles on a paper plate and cross my fingers that their early morning blood sugar spike doesn’t cause them to faint at PE. Crap. PE. Can’t forget the PE shoes…

7:05 am: I am going to pack a lunch that will not appear embarrassing in case one of the other school moms is on lunch room duty (just kidding that’s not the REAL reason). There will be no bento box…let’s not get carried away. But I at least want give the impression I have given lunch more than a cursory thought.

7:10 am: I quickly realize we don’t have much besides peanut butter and cheese sticks. One doesn’t eat cheese. The other is not allowed to bring peanut butter. Oh look…a hot dog. Throw the hot dog in the microwave for one lunch box and put some cheese sticks with a baggie of Wheat Thins crumbs in the other. Toss in a couple of Gogurts and apple sauce squeezers (I ran out of time to cut fresh fruit, maybe tomorrow) and zip ’em up.

7:15: We are NOT going to be late today.

7:16 am: We are DEFINITELY going to be late today. I hope my fifth grader doesn’t lose her safety patrol privileges. Whatever. I don’t even care…if she does, we can sleep an extra 15 minutes every morning and I can scratch the stupid D.C. trip off the list of things that terrify me (it’s a long list). Had I known what a shit show patrolling was going to be, I would have bribed myself out of that long ago. 

8:45 am: I am going to get more organized. Today in my free time, I will clean out their drawers in order to decrease the danger of the dresser falling on one of them when they undoubtedly leave every single one of their drawers open at the same time (already happened once…disaster averted by my child’s super human strength).

9:00 am: Oh crap…there are the PE shoes we forgot. Back to school I go. I’ll just remind them not to leave ALL the drawers open at the same time. That should keep them safe temporarily. They ALWAYS remember what I tell them not to do. (Bold sarcasm font).


2:45 pm:  We are not going to fight over homework today. I will keep my cool. I will calmly assist and not raise my voice.

3:30 pm: BAHAHAHAHAHAHA…nice try. Maybe tomorrow.

5:00 pm: After recovering from the daily homework debacle (and possibly pouring a stiff drink), I will make both kids the same dinner and MAKE them eat it. I am sick to death of being a short order cook.

5:30 pm: Boiling pasta for one and making a BLT for the other (while simultaneously cooking a real adult dinner) and cursing my previous self for not listening to my pediatrician when he told me that kids will even eat Spam if you let them get hungry enough.

7:00 pm: I am going to enjoy the 15 minute reading time with my first grader because soon enough she will be too big to sit on my lap and sound out words and time is fleeting and thinking of her growing up makes me sad.

7:06 pm: Oh, look at the time…15 minutes flew by in a flash. “I’m…I mean you’re done! Wow you’re a great reader now!” I say as I unclench my jaw.

7:30 pm: No tv tonight. Remember how tired they were this morning when you had to drag them out of bed like dead animals??

7:31 pm: Nevermind. Go ahead. I have lost the will to fight.

8:31 pm: I love those precious little angels, I think to myself, from the comfort of my warm bathtub, as I unwind in the company of the BAU’s Derek Morgan and his freakishly beautiful white teeth. Tomorrow I will be a better mom for them. They deserve it. But, in the words of Scarlet O’Hara, I’ll think about that tomorrow…after all, tomorrow is another day.