This week I got a text from a friend. “I can’t believe I just saw you deliver other people’s children from school with all you do.” At that moment I wondered what she was thinking about me. I wanted to send her a very long note back.

You might have seen me drop Tad off at his house with a van full of kids but you didn’t see me drive the turnabout twice because I always forget he’s in the car with a bunch of squealing girls in the back. You didn’t know I called my husband at work frantic because I volunteered to pick up not one but two too many kids one day. He used his lunch to go to the middle school to pick up three while I had 5 in the van. 

You don’t see how frustrated I am that other moms aren’t helping with the PTA. You don’t know that my floors are often crunchy and I’m pretty sure the dust might be getting pretty thick on that top shelf. You weren’t there when I forgot to put the half time snacks in the cooler and then spent a ridiculous amount on oranges and grapes, dropping my daughter off with little time to warm up. 

This weekend, I threw three of my four in the car because I had Redbox movies that needed to be returned. I was playing music as loud as I could and had the AC cranked in an effort to keep them awake. I may have cried a little when I realized the machine at the gas station was broken. We had to got to the NEX. No shoes. No makeup. Ratty hair. The kids with no shoes. Tucker in the car. I wound up parking as close as I could, running to the dispenser and running back. Thankfully no children were harmed and no arrests were made in the course of events. 

Ray mentioned the other day that people get the wrong idea about the lives of others through social media. It’s not real. We only post the good. Let me tell you, I’m one hot mess. I have calendar confusion. I hurt my daughter’s feelings this weekend because instead of waking up little people and getting them ready so I could take her to her soccer game, I let Ray take her. It seemed easier. Oops. I started talking with the neighbors and missed an opportunity or two to pass the soccer ball around outside last night. Ooops. I hear things come out of their mouths that clearly sound like something I would say. Double oops.

One of the worst moments this weekend was seeing one of my worst traits in my child. My brother used to tell me (as he was shaking his head) that he was amazed at me sometimes. He said I have the patience and compassion of Mother Theresa and Ghandi rolled up in one. He would want to scream his fool head off and I’d be calm…and then I’m not. There is no rhyme or reason for when I will show you patience or compassion and if I’m not in that mood everyone should run for cover. Apparently there were times that he found me more threatening that a few of the criminals he put away. Not exactly something to be proud of. I would also tell him he was crazy and I didn’t see it. This weekend, I saw that same reaction in my child. The child that I’m always applauding for her compassion and discernment and patience. She lost her mind and went off on her siblings. Oh my! Not a fun moment for a mom to see yourself in your child when you are less than proud of her behavior. 

I just needed to say, in case you saw me and thought I was Super Mom, um I’m not. I lost that guide book they were supposed to give me at the hospital a long time ago. I’m just faking it until I can hopefully make it and picking up the pieces as I go. I am not that perfect mom.