Wednesday’s are my busy, busy days. I would say I am generally not a patient mom on Wednesdays. I have to get up early, get myself and my girls all ready to go to their schools, work at the church daycare, pick up the girls and come home to make dinner. It does not seem like a lot, I know. But for a mom who yearns for days when she has nothing to do, it is a lot.
This morning, I wake to see that it is 10 until 8. Not good. I have to leave the house at 8:30 to get all three to school and me to work on time. I curse at my alarm clock for going off many, many times and taking my continued demands to snooze. It should know better.
Sarah had a rough night. Something scared her at midnight and she was up at 2, 4 and 6 to tell me about it. Letting her crawl into bed with me seemed even less soothing for her as she kicked and wiggled all night.
So my day started out with a resounding thud. I have 40 minutes to wake, dress, groom, pack lunches, pack backpacks, tie shoes and hustle them out of the house. Almost impossible.
I manage to get it done in record time and have them all secured in their car seats at 8:45. We should pull into the lot at exactly 9pm, allowing me at least 8 minutes to get them into school, a kiss and a hug to boot, and get to my job across the street by start time, 9:15.
Yea – well….
My children’s preschool failed to notify us that on Wednesday’s this fall, they will be entertaining 300 nondenominational bible study mother’s and have not designated a special parking area for mother’s taking their kids into preschool.
I park, on a busy street, next to an empty field, get out Megan’s stroller, saddle Katie and Sarah down with backpacks and lunch boxes and head in. Across a muddy field. With three children. One in a stroller.
Needless to say, not in my best mood when I drop the kids off. I stop to say something to the Director of the preschool about a designated parking area for students and she makes excuses so I leave. Unhappy. Determined to pull my kids. With mud in my flip flops. To drag Megan and her stroller back across the muddy field.
I get to work at 9:40.
As the morning goes and we are blessed to have our one child that cries the whole time, I am off. I can’t get myself back on track. By the time I leave work, I am in no mood to do anything but go home, lay down and start over. I head to lunch with a good friend and after a tummy busting helping of chicken fettuccine alfredo, feel somewhat soothed and ready to go again. The fact that Megan insisted on sitting and standing on the table the whole time just fell into the background.
Later in the, I pick my girls up from school, happy to see 300 cars gone and actual parking spaces near the doors, listen to Sarah’s teacher tell me how tired she was again – sigh – and load them all into the car. I tell them that we have to hit the grocery store for a few things. They are elated. They love the store. The store has little carts. For them to run into my ankles with.
The store with three girls 4 and under is its usual adventure. I am constantly telling them to watch where they are going, put things back and that we have whatever item they have to have at home. It takes an hour to get 8 items.
As I am checking out, helping the girls unload their kid baskets to the conveyor belt, telling a screeching Megan that we are almost finished, a lady with her own 9 or 10 year old daughter stops by.
“It is so nice to see such a patient Mother for once.”
Ummm… are you talking to me? Surely not.
I look up and sure enough, she is smiling broadly and indeed, talking to me.
“Well, despite the chaos, they are blessings.” I say.
Where did that come from?
Who cares? She has made my day. And I think I have made hers.
A kind word can elevate a day to new horizons. Especially a day that started with a thud.
So today is a good day.
**Originally published 9/15/2010**