I wrote a desperate plea on social media a while ago, about the day my 5 year old ran out of the house in nothing but socks.
I thought I would be exposing myself as the world’s worst mom but instead, got so many virtual high fives! One mom even let me know that this was the most relatable post on the internet, ever. Then I realised that I’m not alone in this… I’m fighting a battle with millions of mommies all over the world!
My almost five year old ran out of the house at 7h20 this morning in nothing but his socks.
It’s winter. It’s freezing. His mom was about to unleash a Makro buy-in-bulk-size can of whoop ass on anyone in reach and he knew it was time to get in the car, no matter what.
I had lovingly made their Jungle Oats with honey and sprinkles. I had asked them very nicely, while I still had my sense of humour, to stop rolling around on the floor with the dog and eat their breakfast. By 7h07, one of them had at least eaten his food and had consumed his rooibos tea in three giant gulps.
The other one was still bouncing around like a loon.
I calmly yet urgently entered a few more requests for the application of clothing to little bodies, which I had laid out in order of aforementioned application, and added that the deadline was now 10 minutes and not 15, or 20, or 25 anymore.
I proceeded to attend to my own preparations for my meeting (with several interruptions) and at the deadline, announced that I was leaving. At this point, said almost-five-year-old was still in Gruffalo onesies.
I then proceeded to loading the car, somehow going through speech prep with 9-year-old and feeding innocent bystander dog and approximately 5 minutes later, re-entered the house.
That moment when…
At this point, almost-five-year-old came wandering out of the bathroom in nothing but socks and his birthday suit and that was the moment when mom lost her proverbial faecal matter. (Have I told you how many times I asked and encouraged and motivated and bribed and begged and pleaded?)
So, said almost-five-year-old runs out of the house like his lufe depended on it, and launched himself into the car in nothing but socks (I will add at this point that these were the socks he slept in) and I basically throw his clothes into the car after him.
As we reverse out of the driveway, I explain why this is unacceptable and why mommy is upset. (Mommy has been having a super hard time of late for readers information – she has a stress rash and her fibromyalgia is flaring up in a big way). Pause as I stop the car and run inside to get an extra jacket for almost-five-year-old because it’s still bloody freezing.
Back in the car, reverse out through the gate and BANG! Right into the car parked across the road. “Fuck”. I think it was the first time I have used profanity in front of my boys. Nuff said.
As we’re finally en-route to our destination, our car declares that we only have 10 kilometres to go before we run out of fuel. We have run out of patience a long time ago but at this stage, fuel is priority. Our friendly Sasol petrol attendant probably would have filled up my car and let me go without payment if he had the authority to fill up for everyone with tears in their eyes. He was so sweet, I didn’t get his name.
I cry as I drive the last few hundred metres to the school gate. The little ones undo their seatbelts and cuddle up to my seat quietly. It’s okay, we’re almost there, it’s going to be okay.
We arrive at school and… brace yourself… his little highness has no shoes. Let’s remember that he left the house in yesterday’s socks and I’d flung only his clothes in the car after his naked butt. As I search the car in hopes of finding any lost shoe, I calculate the time it would take to go all the way back home, fetch shoes, drive all the way back again… would I even survive another 15 minutes with his little highness???
My guardian angels (or OUR guardian angels) bestow upon us firstborn’s pair of running shoes under the passenger seat. Two sizes too big for Blake but an absolute miracle! I would make it work!
Inside nursery school, one of Blake’s favourite teachers is waiting with her beautiful smile and friendly, sing-song voice. He’s happy to give me a quick, awkward hug goodbye and go about his day.
Driving to my meeting, I listen to a podcast which gives me a wonderful, unexpected dose of inspiration. I tend to some work, arrive at my networking meeting to faces that truly seem happy to see me. I receive an unexpected gift of a book from a friend and mentor.
I listen, I advise and I present a quote from Steve Jobs to the room. I get to laugh, a full on snorting, belly aching laugh with someone who has become a dear, dear friend.
My hubby packed me a wonderful lunch with a heart shaped biscuit that he didn’t eat! I won 2 tickets to the SPCA variety showcase tomorrow!
I get back to my office and work, plan, help, talk, sell, think, trust…. and at the end of the day I get to pick up firstborn and his little highness from school and they both run to me and embrace me.
Life, life, life… it goes on.
In one day it can take you on a bloody roller coaster. In one day, I felt the deepest despair and the most heartwarming love.
My babies are watching Mary Poppins, I am writing this post and tomorrow is a busy day before a date night I am really looking forward to.
That is enough. I managed to do enough.
Oh PS… Obviously we needed some comfort food tonight so I made some yummy pork chops with mashed potato, corn, bacon and cheese bake! Because yumminess!
What do you do when you feel so overwhelmed? Does it even happen to anyone else? Next time I should tell you the story of when I took firstborn to school in his underpants… yes, I am that mom.