On Monday morning, I faced the week with great courage. I put on a pot roast in the slow cooker, feeling amazing that *i*,WORKINGMOM, would have a great dinner ready for my family by 6.
But, it was a Monday. The roast was perfect. The children, however, were fit to be tied. B, who is coming along at five months now, was unusually SAD. Mondays are always hard. She upped and went on a crying spell and S followed suit. J, my 10-year-old was acting very dejected. My lap was not big enough for all three and in the musical chairs of comfort, I was getting warn out. Then, S threw up all over me and my black Tahari suit.
I have news for everyone. This is the life of a working mom. It’s not the entire life. Just one polaroid in a series of snapshots on any given day. It’s not for the faint of heart. But, here’s what happened later. J and I enjoyed the pot roast while S played with his “babies.” (A variety of stuffed animals he has names Wee, Ya-Ya, Po and Dipsy – after the tubbies). Dad was holding B. After we ate, he took his turn at the buffet. Later, we drove through the neighborhood admiring all the Christmas lights. Our neighborhood does it up RIGHT for the holidays. We came home and made brownies.
That night I got four hours of sleep. I was grumpy when I got home on Tuesday and everyone had to eat leftover pot roast. For every thesis, there is an antithesis.
J has nutcracker practice all week. Things this simple turn our lives upside down.
On Monday, when everyone (namely R and J) were so EDGY — I told them, “Look. Every night somebody doesn’t make it home to their family. Let’s be glad we all made it home and are together again.”
Most of our days are spent apart. The coming together is exciting, stressful. But, this is our family. Women are so powerful – mothers with their ability to calm and comfort and make everything all better. I never want my family to lose me. I take care of them and I am so grateful for this opportunity. I pray God always helps me do this.