5:30 Wake up very early so I will have PLENTY OF TIME.
5:31 Think hopefully about making myself a hot beverage to enjoy during my 15 minutes of alone time. Begin to sneak downstairs.
5:31 Because my toddler has the super-senses of a Barn Owl, she knows the second I try to sneak downstairs, even though I am wandering around in the dark with my phone flashlight like a criminal.
5:32 I stop suddenly, like the criminal that I am, to see if maybe she will fall back asleep.
5:33 She does not. “Mama! Wake!” She is oddly cheerful for as tired as she should be from hollering all night in her aimless search for her life crutch/binky. I feel afraid that her cheerfulness will backfire if I accept it.
5:33 Put said toddler on to and off of the potty for the remainder of the morning, feeling only slightly bad that she must be freezing to the toilet seat because of the subarctic temperatures that my husband insists upon for sleeping.
5:34 I feel only slightly bad because her cheerfulness is beginning to backfire dramatically after being thwarted from her obsession with hand-washing.
6:15 Wake my older child up and thank whoever is in charge of doling out kids that there is one person in my family who wakes up in a good mood. Remind myself to be nice to people so that karma will continue to allow him to be this way throughout his teen years.
7:00 Rush around and eventually, everyone in the family is fed, watered, lunched, snacked. Well, except for me. I do manage to make a hot beverage…because…life.
7:30 I realize I mistakenly forgot to reserve time for Pull-Up-Character-Negotiations.
7:35 Five minutes before the bus arrives, my older child remembers a very important thing that must be signed and paid for and that he needs to find his library book because it’s library day and that he needs to bring a helmet to school because it’s rollerblading day and that he simply needs to have his very special markers and very special notebook for the bus and, oh by the way, it’s his teacher’s birthday, “Couldn’t I bring her some cookies or something?”
7:40 Turn into super mom and find everything, sign everything, because I seriously don’t have time to make an extra trip to school when there is a very convenient bus that will pick the child up if he can only make it there on time. With help from his dad, who may or may not have just now stumbled out of bed, he makes it.
7:45 Attempt to explain to the toddler that her Dad is going to take her to her babysitter today. She accepts this change in schedule with a cheerful “Okay!” so I know she doesn’t get it. And I really hope that I’m not around when she does get it.
7:50 Go outside to warm the car up, and in my toddler’s frenetic need to have me within sight at all times, she twists the knob of the door around and around, trying to get out…and…locks me out of the house. While my husband is at the bus stop with our son. This seriously happened.
7:51 Try to explain the mechanics of the door to the toddler through the door for about 5 seconds until I remember that she didn’t even understand me when I said, ‘Daddy is taking you to your babysitter today.” I panic for a second until I remember that I let the dog out upstairs earlier! Send out hopeful thoughts.
7:52 Get inside the house. OMG, thank goodness, that would have been a seriously embarrassing conversation with some professional-type person.
7:55 Give my toddler a hug goodbye (freedom is within sight!) She has actually managed to put her coat and backpack on, confirming my theory that she does not understand that her Dad is driving her to the babysitter today. She gives me a hug. She even says “Bye, Mommy!” And then as I open the door to leave, she gets it. And she realizes that she will have to put her life in the hands of…her father.
7:57 It’s dramatic. I escape.
8:00 I drive down the driveway. My hot beverage is no longer hot, but it is in my hand, thus I consider this morning an incredible success.
Related post: 10 Things Working Mothers Don’t Want To Hear
This article was originally published on