Here is a summary of this (and every) morning, depicted using actual words from a one minute snapshot of why I never, ever have time to do my makeup (my husband thinks I am a supermodel if I get chapstick on), put on matching clothes (whatever passes the smell check), or even take a shower (once again…smell check). “Zoe…go tell your sister to get her shoes on.” Mia screams in rebellion. I hear Zoe dramatically fall to the ground and whimper in despair. I have to think fast. Do I reprimand Mia for the rebellion, or focus on Zoe’s constant cries for attention, by overplaying the role of victim? “Zoe, stand up. You’re not the boss. You need to ask your sister, not demand. If she doesn’t listen, then talk to me before losing your mind. You’re not a victim.” My quick-witted mini-me responds with, “But you demanded me to demand Mia, and I did try to talk to you before I lost my mind.” Crap! She caught me. What do I do? Wesley screams. I look over to see Mia pinning him down and licking his face. Darn it! I should have focused on the rebel. Wrong call. No, wait! This is the perfect distraction so I don’t have to deal with my parenting fail with Zoe. “Mia, please put on your shoes and stop licking your brother.” This is unfortunately an all too common quote in our household. I go to get Mia’s shoes. “Where’s your other shoe Mia?” Que the “PLOP”sound from the other room. I half sprint, half drag myself into the bathroom, fearful of what I might find and trying to decide which direction I want to run. “No Wesley! Shoes do not go in the potty. Hand that to Mama please.” Well, we found Mia’s other shoes. I hope the weather warms up enough to excuse the sandals she’ll be wearing today.

Oh, how I wish this was atypical. Now before anyone starts giving me tips, please envision the personalized, interactive Morning Jobs charts aside each of my kiddo’s character building sticker charts, aside kid-created linguistic frames for Habits of Heart and Mind (perseverance, flexibility, etc.), alongside the kid-created circle map of actual examples of times we used HoHM, next to their laid out shoes, alongside…you get the picture. My madness is not from lack of effort to control the chaos. I like to pretend that the issue is not what I do, as much as it is that little guys are simply programmed to be time leaches. And while I secretly admire (or maybe a better word is hate) all of you supermoms out there that manage to get out the door in full hair and makeup, or even just in a shirt without some form of your child’s bodily fluid secretly hidden under a strategically placed scarf or sweater, I tell myself my disheveled, “Are those pajamas?”, “Is she homeless?” style is actually my badge of honor, a symbol of my commitment to my children. I am a survivor!