By: Meghan Mack, Our Newest Writer!
Meghan and her brood.
Mondays always start off the same way. Get the kids up (begrudgingly of course) and down for breakfast, make the lunches, keep the older two quiet as to not wake the youngest thus creating complete mayhem. Listen to my name, not Meghan but Mommy, thirty seven times in one minute because I have not brought the orange juice quickly enough. Sip some coffee that is now cold and must be reheated.
Author Megan Mack
This will happen at least another three times before we head out the door for carpool. Pour out the left over milk that is in the cereal bowls while explaining that many children would love to have just this little bit and would make it last for two months. Big roll of the eyes on that one. Hurry them up the stairs and clean up the dishes and try to remember what I was going to do next.
Oh, get dressed!
I wouldn’t want to embarrass anyone in my pink flannel pajamas. I bust these treasures out as soon as Jim Duncan on channel 12 projects it will be in the 40’s that evening. My husband refers to these pajamas as my jumpsuit but after almost fifteen years of marriage those fancy Victoria’s Secret items just are not functional. Needless to say how much therapy I’d be paying for if my children saw me in one of those little items.
So I throw on my black yoga pants, jog bra, some workout shirt in hopes of a run that morning. Pull my hair into a pony tail, which looks nothing like the fabulous messy ponytails of the women that are showcased on E!, brush my teeth with my sonic toothbrush that I can now handle and not shower the entire bathroom with white dots of toothpaste. I’m ready to go and it’s only been four minutes.
My little guy is finally up and laughing in his bed, hiding under his duckie blanket, waiting for me to find him. For these first few moments I cherish him. He is sweet and loving and so happy to see me. This only lasts a few minutes because he then realizes that he is a three year old and has to begin his job of challenging my every command.
The older two are ready and in the den watching television. I know, it is a mortal sin to let your kids watch TV before school but I do. And I pay. With an 8 yr old boy, a 5 year old girl and a 3 year old boy they agree on NOTHING (I know you are laughing right now). So instead of watching a show, they all fight about what they should watch and how mean the other is and how they will never like each other again.
Great way to start the day!
Finally, back packs are secured, lunches and homework and money for whatever it is they need that day are in all the right compartments. The coats are on and zipped, I actually have my phone, purse and keys and have just heated my coffee for the second time, a record. I look around and my three year old is nowhere to be found. After taking a deep breath I call his name and he comes strutting around the corner in his big brothers Anakin Skywalker Halloween costume from last year, light saber and mask included. There is no getting this child out of this get up now and we cannot afford a meltdown of mass proportions, so I figure the costume will serve as his coat and off we go.
I look back in the mirror after they are all buckled in and see how proud this little Anakin is of himself and I have to smile. I mean, you just have to pick your battles and this was not one I was willing to fight because I knew I wouldn’t win.
After dropping the older carpool boys off we headed to take my daughter to school, little guy still proud as ever in the back seat. When it was time to let her out of the car, I paused to see what the teacher would say. Dropping the three boys off before was nothing; they cause enough chaos getting out of the car to create a major distraction. With just my daughter I knew that I wouldn’t get so lucky. Cautiously I turned around as the teacher opened the car door, huge smile on her face. She greeted my daughter enthusiastically and helped her out. I thought I was scot- free but as she was closing the door she saw him and that happy, excited face dropped. All I heard was “Oh.”
What should I say? What could I do? All I could muster was “A little creepy, huh?” I mean the mask was sort of like the one Michael Meyers wore in Halloween, I really don’t think these costume makers should be paid such big money to make little kids look freaky. Anyway, her only response was “Yes, just a little,” and she made the gesture with her thumb and forefinger as to measure something. We laughed an uncomfortable laugh and she then shut the door.
I had to smile again. After three children you get past the point of embarrassment and figure out that you do what you have to do to make things work. They are kids. Kids do silly things. You can stress about it or take it as it comes and have a good laugh every now and again.
They are not going to walk across the graduation stage with the Halloween Anakin costume and even if they did you would still be proud…think of how pleased George Lucas’s mom is these days.
