Set Your Thermostat Low and Your Bars Lower

This morning the alarm went off bright and early and I woke to find Boy Two standing in the doorway twittering, ‘It’s time to get up, Mom!’

And by twittering I mean excitedly adding to the annoying chirp of the alarm clock, not updating his microblog.

After the fog cleared enough to see I wasn’t in some Twilight Zone where children enthusiastically leap from their beds every day and greet their mothers with a hug and a smile, I realized I was in the real world where that only happens on the first day of school and Christmas.   

Yes, we started school today – a Friday.  If anyone would like to clue me in on any obvious wisdom I’m missing in that County Board decision, feel free.  As it is, it feels I went on an extreme shoes, clothes, and school supply shopping triathalon in preparation for some sick dry run with no laurel wreath at the end.  The wreath being a full five day stretch of FREEDOM SWEET FREEDOM, BABY!

Sorry.  Got a little carried away there.

Oh, I jest.  A little.  We’ve had a fabulous summer (Oops.  I still owe y’all some vacation recap?) and if the kiddos weren’t so completely pumped to get back to dailyness with their friends then I wouldn’t be either.  Last year my emotions were a bit more unpredictable because The Girl began Kindergarten.  It still amazes me even now how our wee ones transform in the matter of one night from pre-schoolers to Bonafide Big Kids.  They change just like that and there isn’t a thing in the world – not a single, solitary thing –  we can do to stop it.   *sigh*

Hello, Melancholy.  My name is Lisa.  We don’t get together much.  Let’s keep it that way, shall we?

All suppressed emotion aside, I truly could have choked The Girl this morning.  Two and Three were ready for school early and wanted to go on before I was ready.  Considering I can throw a rock and hit the building, it’s nothing to let them walk and even take their sister from time to time.  On anyday except the first day that is.  I told the boys to go and I’d catch up.  The Girl wanted to go too but I specifically told her she had to wait on me.

I was halfway through The Taming O’ the ‘Fro and called The Girl to come in so I could add a few curls to her hair.  No answer.  Sis!  No answer.  Where are you?  Silence.  I ran through the house and realized that little rat had snuck out with her brothers.  Never mind she could have gotten kidnapped between here and there.  What are people going to think about me??

So, I didn’t finish the ‘Fro and took off to her class.  There she sits a perfect angel working on her coloring sheet.  I casually saunter in and fake like I meant for her to be there several minutes before me.  That’s before I get busted by my friend Christina who tells me she had already asked Girl where I was.  Wanna know what she said?  “Oh, she’s still at home.”   Oh, yeah.  Loser Mom was just hanging out at the house while her 6 year old walked her own self to school and settled herself into her class.  On the first day of school.  Alone.  By herself.  Solo.  Sans madre.

Did I mention she was unaccompanied? 

I leaned over sweetly and through a faux smile breathed some murderous threats in her ear about NEVER doing that AGAIN because not only could she get kidnapped but I would look like a BIGGER idiot if it happened twice and besides that, MY HAIR!  There’s nothing worse than a bad mom with a badder ‘do. 

So, I did what anyone would have done in that situation. I composed myself and made it a teachable moment for my friend, Christina.   I carefully explained how one should always set her bars low so no one expects much.  Imagine how impressed The Girl’s teacher will be if I decide to send GermX AND walk my child to class versus if I’m there all “on time”and “prepared” and “overzealous” yet later shatter my image by telling her I don’t want to be homeroom mom.

See how that works?  You’re welcome. 

Why am I telling you this?  Because I feel there may be a mom among you who may be having a rough day.  Consider this sharing of my failures and inadequacies as a sub-ministry.  As long as you have me, you are always one up.

So here’s a fun thing I love to ask every couple of years or so.  Do you have a Loser Mom moment  with which you would like to encourage the rest of us?   One of the most disgusting and yet satisfying ones I’ve ever had comes to mind but it will need another post.  Y’all tell me yours and I promise to tell you mine.  I still bask in the glory because the teacher who was involved?  She totally deserved it.

Okay, y’all have a great weekend and we’ll talk soon.

Peace Out,

Lisa

p.s.  Thank you so much for all the kitty naming advice.  The boys insist on naming it Bartholomew.  Or Bartholomeow as Rena suggested.   I’ll be calling it Bart.  Or Ezra for short.  Because I’m studying Ezra right now and I want this cat to set his heart on understanding the Word of God and doing it. 

Lofty goals for a cat.  But if he can do it, so can we. 

 (Precious Sheryl Dean, expect to hear more about Ezra – the prophet, not the cat – next weekend! :)

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