My morning today was one of those where if you can’t laugh, you might as well cry…or hide in your bed with the covers over you! Sit back and picture in your mind the craziness that was my morning…
It all started last night as Laura was still gabbing away in her crib at 8:45p, well past her usual 7p night-night time. I had that sinking feeling that it was going to be a long night for baby and mommy. She woke up screaming hungry at 1am and I thought ok, this might not be so bad. Well, that was until 5:15am rolled around and Laura decided she’d like to throw one of her infamous parties in her crib. Giggling, playing, laughing, crying, giggling, playing, laughing, crying…you get the picture. This vicious circle went round and round until somewhere around 6:45am when she fell back asleep. I figured I was in for maybe 45 minutes more slumber if I was lucky.
Fast forward to 8:30a! Never, and I mean, never has this little sleep terrorist slept past 7:45a at the very latest. Therefore it never occurred to me that I’d actually need to set an alarm to make it to music class almost a half hour away at 9:30. If there’s one thing that is my biggest pet peeve, it’s being late, or even remotely close to being late. I get anxious, overwhelmed, and become a true nightmare when I’m running late. Just ask my husband (and by the way, Mathew, sorry for letting my monstrous nature rear its ugly head this morning! Yikers!). I jumped out of bed asking, well more like telling Matt to grab Laura, changer her diaper, and please for the love of God feed her a bottle quickly! I knew that if I took an empty-stomached little Laura to a 45 minute music class, things would NOT be good.
So much for my plans, Laura refused to eat but just wanted to play. By the time I got out of the shower and looked decent (ok let’s be real, I looked like a sweating, flustered mess running around like Godzilla trying to gather all the crap that comes along with carting little miss thing anywhere!), it was time to leave, well five minutes past time to leave. I’d have no breakfast, and more importantly, no coffee. I repeat, not good.
Traffic here bites the big one in the morning and there is literally no other way to go to music class than straight through it. Try as I might while still being a careful driver (after peeling out of the parking lot, sweat running down my face) I pulled in five minutes late. Sigh, anger and anxiety set in. Laura still hadn’t eaten either. We sit down with all the other put together mommies and kids who are so nicely sitting on laps and joining along.
Would that be my little march-to-the-beat-of-her-own-drum kiddo? Yeah, hell no. She immediately launches herself off of my lap and proceeds to practice downward facing dog, her favorite yoga pose in the middle of the circle while the rest of the class sings the hello song. Then after showing her mad flexibility skills, her intimidation stare downs begin. She goes to practically everyone in the room, one-by-one, and gives them the look. ———————->
All I could do was turn red and laugh. Not sure what the others were thinking as I was seriously avoiding eye contact by now. After the stare downs came the stomping-shuffle and shouting mid-singing. You can’t make this stuff up. She was in rare form today. At least by this point some other kiddos were off moms’ laps and doing their own thing…hopefully not because of the influence of my little pistol.
Laura’s favorite part of music class is when we play with the instruments. My least favorite part of music class is when we play with the instruments. Laura puts them all in her mouth, takes from other less intimidating babies, and then throws a holy tantrum of all tantrums when it’s time to put them away. Today was no exception. She even started a tantrum on my lap then looked quietly around the room, gathering attention, threw herself down in the middle of the circle and wept bitterly. Le Sigh. What can you do? I say, make excuses, as many as I can. I picked her up and sheepishly attributed her behavior to not eating very much that morning. Yeah, I don’t think they bought it either.
Finally music class was over and it was time for coffee…and maybe breakfast. First I sat in the back seat with Laura and fed her a long-over due bottle. My next stop was the new drive-thru Panera for a totally non-healthy, but much deserved cinnamon crunch bagel (a-ma-zing) and a large coffee. I place my order and no lie, 15 minutes later am at the window feeling rather disheveled and stabby (thanks, for the term cousin). I’m handed my bagel, pay $2.45 (hmmm….that seems low) and the worker walks away. Normally I’d just say what the hell and go home to a pot of coffee but seeing how my morning was going there was no telling how the rest of my drive home would go. So I honked my horn, flailing my arms out of the window like a crazy person, only to have the worker return running with my coffee. I pointed out that I needed to pay for said cup o’ sanity and he said nope, it’s ok. Being without food or drink for the entire morning, my brain wasn’t functioning enough to comprehend that he was giving me a free coffee. Being the redonkulus human being I am, I argued that I needed to pay. He again said, “Honey, it’s on the house.” Oh…enter total embarrassment and humiliation. I couldn’t even muster the ability to giggle, laugh, make a coherent statement. I hope I at least murmured a thank you. He must have taken one look at my frazzled, discombobulated self and had nothing but sheer pity for the sweaty, sad mother at the window. Either way….I’ll take a free coffee…and subsequently run away.
Once home I decided a dance party in the kitchen with Laura was just what I needed to shake off this comedy of errors morning. We danced and laughed away all the craziness that was this morning.
If there’s one thing I’ve had to learn as a mom, things very rarely go according to plan or schedule. You’ve got to roll with the punches and learn to laugh at yourself, your kid, and everything else. Thank you, Mathew, for dealing with my uptightness on a regular basis. Thank you, Panera man, for my free coffee and your pity. Thank you, Laura-love, for helping me to loosen up & laugh, to learn to dance in the kitchen for no reason, and to take life & all that comes with it less seriously.
And now, it’s quiet and my little maniac is sleeping. Time to relish the calm.