Parenting

Five Ways Coffee Makes Moms Invincible

by Brooke Takhar
Updated: 
Originally Published: 

Oh, the mighty coffee bean. It’s truly Mother Nature’s most magical blessing.

I drink at least two cups a day. Black, strong and mighty. But I’m not a brew snob. Hell, I’ll drink instant coffee in an … instant … because oh my God, life is busy and filled with stupid adult responsibilities so if there’s a way to get that mystical elixir into my bloodstream quicker, I will do that.

Every time.

Once I’m nicely caffeinated, I am a new woman. I am transformed. I can do fantastic things. For example, I can…

1. Demolish To-Do Lists

I use lists to run my life. It’s not due to my extreme organizational manner; rather, it’s due to my half-functioning Mom memory. Unless I jot down an important task, ingredient needed, appointment made or due date, I am a walking Forget Factory. Once I’ve swallowed the last gritty remnants of my morning cup, that list becomes my bitch. I power through each and every actionable item like I’m on a game show and the prize is a coffee farm complete with cute donkeys and men who will lead me around on said cute donkeys. Wielding a deliciously scented marker, I work my way down all the day-to-day minutiae I need to accomplish, gleefully crossing off tasks as I go. Sure, sometimes I add in things that were not on the list to begin with just so I can cross them off. Sure, some tasks get moved to tomorrow’s To-Do List. I am just one woman. But a lot of boring shit gets handled thanks to coffee.

2. Talk On the Phone

The day texting was invented, I nearly wept with gratitude. Talking on the phone, even if it’s with dear friends whose voices pour out of the receiver like delicious maple syrup tapped from the tree, is a living nightmare for me. Even though we are in a day and age when we can happily connect only electronically, there are still occasions and obligations that must be done via telephone. Once I’m deeply and profoundly caffeinated, I am able to pick up the phone and dial my grandparents’ landline. I can confidently call the doctor’s office with the receptionist who speaks so quickly it gives me performance anxiety and I end up forgetting why I’m calling or what my kid’s name is. I can maneuver through the insane mazes of a Yanni-infused customer helpline without hucking my phone clear across the room. I can announce who is calling and why I’m calling without stumbling over my words or sweating through my bra. Coffee makes me a phone phenom.

3. Become A Laundry Goddess

When I’ve got my coffee in hand, I can sort a week’s worth of laundry with the other. I can even make a Dry-Clean only pile that I have every intention of dealing with. Darks, whites, even the underwear with suspicious smudges go arcing through the air with ease until I have multiple perfectly-formed mounds ready to dance their way into the mouth of the washing machine. (Whether or not they all make it into the wash, then through the dryer and then get folded, hung and placed back in closets, is another thing. Coffee is just the ignition; it’s not a Harry Potter wand.)

4. Deal With the Bathroom

Ideally, I would be very drunk before I ever picked up a toilet scrubby, but that seems like a waste of a good white. There are things and colors and smears and clumps you see in the bathroom that you can never un-see. When I’m flying on a caffeine buzz, my vision is kind of blurry, so it’s all just a visual collage of porcelain and water and lemon-scented spritz. I can deal with that. Armed with my coffee goggles, I gleefully spray my cleaner all around the bathroom, wiping large and small surfaces with old underwear I found in the laundry, and my gag reflex lives to see another day.

5. Believe All Good Things Are Possible and Love the World I Live In

Only after I’ve finished half my morning coffee can I calmly log on to the Internet. The world talks very loudly, and unless I am caffeinated, it’s deafening to me. Facebook and Instagram and Twitter are packed with wall-to-wall parental humble brags, other people’s job promotions, engagements, new country homes, craftiness and vacation pictures. They’re also overflowing with sadness, scary news, and frightening facts about my food, country and future that ordinarily make me want to climb into a yurt and make my own yogurt. With every sip, the fear and envy and annoyance softly fade away. Fuck it; I will accept your invitation to play Candy Crush!

Every day as a woman, wife, Mom, employable body and hypochondriac there are new fears to face.

But I will succeed. I will survive. I will adult the shit out of my life, one hot, fragrant cup of coffee at a time.

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