There are 5 women who raise my kids. And no, we don’t have a reality TV show on Polygamy Central or anything. I have come to realize that 5 different women appear between 6 am and bedtime, and they all look like me.
Mommy #1 appears before the coffee has finished perking. She is quiet. The kids know to avoid her. Well, at least the older 2 do. They get their own snacks, watch TV, play iPad, color on the walls… whatever. Just don’t approach that lady over there until she has had at least 5 damn sips of coffee. The little one doesn’t know the rules yet and has been greeted with angry morning face on a few occasions. He’ll learn.
Mommy #2 arrives at around 7 am. Coffee has begun to show effectiveness. This mommy is productive. Okay, let’s get after that sink that has been full of dishes since dinnertime last night. Wait, before that, let’s throw in a load of laundry! Okay, kitchen is clean. What, you want to do a craft? Okay! Sure, Mommy will drag out the paints, glitter, and glue. This Mommy peaks at around 11:00, as the 2-year old is eating lunch, which will be followed by nap. Since 7:00, he has emptied the entire Tupperware cabinet, spilled crackers into the cracks between the couch cushions, tried to climb into the dryer (during her energetic laundry load), climbed unsafely on 4 different things and fallen off, causing himself various injuries, and bit his sister. Bye-bye Mommy #2.
Mommy #3 needs a minute. She’s here now, and the kids know it. The toddler is in his crib. She puts the big kids in front of any screen they want, re-heats her 5-hour old coffee, and sits down in front of the computer. Aaaaaah. She will morph into Mommy #4 in one hour.
Mommy #4 is a lot like Mommy #2, but not quite as peppy. She greets toddler after nap with love and kisses. She takes all of the kids outside and pushes them on the swings. She gives them popsicles and lets them roll down the hill in the backyard, staining their clothes. She is okay with this. She will not mind scrubbing grass stains. (Who are we kidding — she probably won’t scrub out the stains anyway.) Sadly, Mommy #4 wanes throughout the afternoon and gives rise to Mommy #5.
Mommy #5 is f-ing DONE. She is the kids’ least favorite mommy. She poured her beer or glass of wine at 6:00 after the 4-year spilled milk all over the table, chair, her entire outfit, and the Legos that are… well, everywhere. She is blasting the Justin Timberlake station on Pandora in the vain attempt of boosting her energy and/or mood. “Put your PAJAMAS ON” she will say at 8:00 through gritted teeth (since this is the 78th fricking time she has said it). She will take a deep breath, look at the clock, and say to herself, 30 minutes. Come on #5. Dig deep. Read the stories, say the prayers, search for Mommy #4 in there. She’s in there. She knows her kids deserve more of Mommies # 2 and 4. She does her best to throw a few more tickles and smooches in there before turning out the light.
At 8:30, Mommy returns to her beverage that’s been patiently waiting on the counter since dinner. In 9.5 hours, Mommy #1 will return. She better enjoy that wine.
image credit: pixabay.com
