So Today was A DAY.
I found myself at 7:10 still in my pajamas, hair a mess, no make-up on and breastfeeding and needing to be at work by 7:30.
THANK GOD my mother in law was planning on taking my daughter to school today so she was able to take the baby so I could rush and get ready.
I rushed through my routine, threw on some clothes, loaded up my boys, kissed my first grader good by and sped off to daycare.
Dropped off my boys, kissed them goodbye and rolled into work at 7:40. I HATE being late. I hate it. But I was and my amazing coworkers just patted me on the back for getting here dressed and we moved on.
Got to my desk and began working. And then it happened.
Somewhere in the small dark corners of my convoluted mind I remembered reading on the note the teacher sent home for all the students on the first day of school that snack will no longer be distributed by parents on a rotating schedule.
This is year 4 of school for Annabelle, two years of preschool and kindergarten, and all the way up we were always assigned snack weeks (or days) where it was our responsibility to bring snacks for the class.
NOW in an act of absolute anarchy, first grade is taking my snack week and telling it to shove it!!!!
ANNABELLE DOESN’T HAVE A SNACK.
I envisioned her laying in the grass alone, stomach lurching as she watched through half cracked eye-lids the other children eating snacks that are shaped like animals from mothers who love their children.
I then received two stressful terrible phone calls while at work that were full of tension and turmoil. I usually can handle that. I can handle everything. I can make dinner (alone because my husband is coaching football) with my son in his carrier screaming while I bounce up and down trying to soothe him, while my three year old boy lays on the kitchen floor dying of hunger and my daughter is next to me because she doesn’t want what I am making. I can do anything. I can handle being yelled at on the phone at work. I can handle everything. I can. I really can.
I can’t. I broke down. I sobbed at my desk and grabbed my keys and drove to find a snack.
I cried all the way to the donut shop and I selected two donuts for myself, one for my daughter and a coworker. I drove up to the school and put the pink sprinkle princess donut into its individual bag. I signed in, got my visitor badge, walked to her class and waved to the teacher. She waved, and signaled to Annabelle to come talk to me.
“Hey sweetie, so this isn’t going to happen every day, but I bought you a special treat today. Because you are such a sweet girl, and you get ready so good for me in the morning, I bought you a pink donut with sprinkles for your snack. This is the only time you will get a donut for snack, but I thought you should have something special.”
She looked at me wide eyed with a grin slowly creeping across her face. “Thank you mommy.”
“You’re welcome, I’ll see you in a little bit.”
I kissed her on the top of her head, waved to the teacher, went back to the office to sign out and joke with the office ladies about how if they want special football hats from my husband’s football team they better have me do it because men never get things done and walked out to my car, swag level 100 best-mom-ever-donut-mom.
I got into my car, turned my music up loud and cried. Hard. For like five minutes.
Because its hard trying to do everything, and because I can’t do everything. Because if I would’ve read the letter and been on it I could’ve ran to the store last night and bought the stuff to make snack and a beautiful lunch and instead I last minute bought a donut.
But I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t because I work all day and then make dinner and if I did that extra thing I wouldn’t have had time to play with my baby or read “Llama Llama Red Pajama” for the billionth time to my son. I wouldn’t have had time to help my daughter build her Shopkins lego castle. And that’s not wrong and it’s not because I don’t want to but because I don’t have enough arms and legs and my children will be fine. She looked at me today like I was a badass and it’s because I AM a badass.
So I drove to work, wiped away my tears, went into my office, dimmed the lights, turned on some music, pulled out my work for the day and scarfed down my donuts like a mad woman.
And to those moms who complain about parents who send their kids with lunchables for lunch or don’t theme their food kiss my butt. No one knows what someone else goes through, and just because you can or can’t doesn’t mean anyone is any less than you are.
I applaud the moms who do it and the ones who don’t. Get it girl.
Also, look at how cute my baby is.