The past 24 hours has been a perfect exercise in how NOT to be a perfect mom.
Step One. Even though you know your child has been a bit under the weather, but has no specific glaring symptoms other then a low grade fever off and on, you dose them up with Motrin and Cheerios, and send them to nursery school anyway. Actually, they are one of the first to be dropped off.
Step Two. Work late, and forget to check messages until you leave work. In fact, forget to call the mommy who is supposed to be picking up your other kid, just to make sure everything is still happening as planned. Thank god, everything happened as planned.
Step Three. Get to nursery school later then expected for pick-up, and find daughter sound asleep on the floor. They don't close for another hour, and the teacher says your daughter has been complaining about an ear ache. Leave her asleep on the floor. Go home to shower and change, and make a doctor's appointment for that evening. End up being one of the last parents to pick up at nursery school, so that you can just grab her on the way to the doctor's office, since it's on the way.
Step Four. Keep both kids out until 9pm on a school night trying to fill a prescription for the ear infection your daughter has.
Step Five. Take older child to school an hour late, because you neglected to deal with homework the day before, and let him sleep in in the morning.
Step Six. Completely ignore the new rule of always wearing pants to take child to school. Squeal into school parking lot an hour late, in bathrobe and thong. Wave and smile, and shout "I love you honey" out the window as you peel out in the sand. Son is horrified.
Step Seven. When daughter suggests playing a new game, you continue to type, and say "Maybe Later." When she scoops up a handful of change and says the new game is "Make all of mommy's money disappear" say "We play that game every damn day" and continue typing.
Step Eight. When you have finally decided to shower and dress for the day, take child to library for story time, and leave her in the children's section while you go read the New York Times in the back of the library. Return to children's area only when your daughter says she is getting nervous and needs you. Bring New York Times. Do not sing or clap or dance. Sit and Read and ignore the adults acting like idiots.
Step Nine. Instead of going to yoga and doing the grocery shopping, return home to work and let your child watch TV for 3 hours. Give her a peanut butter and jelly. Almost out of jelly. Crap.
Step Ten. Fall asleep on the couch, and forget to pick up your kid until the school calls and wakes you up and the secretary announces in a cheerful voice that "you forgot your son". (OK, that one happened last month, but it could happen again at any time.)
1 hour ago