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Life is not about getting to the destination, life is what happens to you on the way there. 

Monday, November 28, 2005

Ever wish upon a perfect life?

Once upon a time there was a mother. She was a perfect mother. Perfect mom doesn't give the kids a slice of bread and a glass of koolaid for breakfast. She rose every day promptly at 7am and cooked breakfast for her three darling well behaved children in the spotless kitchen. Every hair was in place - there were no wrinkles in her clothing and no fingerprints or smudges on the dishes. The house practically glowed with order.

Her firstborn took the dogs out without being reminded to do so and there were no soggy surprises to squish into her socks - if she had been wearing socks, but this was the perfect mother - she was not wearing socks - she was poaching eggs at the stove in nylons and high heels. The dogs only barked when there was someone at the door or they had to go potty - and after barking twice, sat patiently by the door for someone to do what they were asked. The pets only shed hair outside the house and they walked quietly out to pee and then walked back to the house to be let in. No pets got loose and barked at neighbors front doors waking them up and prompting threats of calling the pound if the animals could not be kept under control.

Middlechild helps pour the orange juice and doesn't spill a drop. She only has sweet and darling things to say when she opens her mouth - and doesn't understand why some people complain over cereal and milk when there are starving children in Afghanistan who have never tasted Froot Loops and isn't she the luckiest girl alive? She eats the cereal and milk and smiles - because she isn't eating it for herself - she's eating it for the starving children in Afghanistan.

Youngest child doesn't put on clothing with holes and stains instead of the new clothes she was purchased. Nobody calls home to ask if we need help buying clothes for her. She washes herself in the bath and wears clean undies every day. Nobody calls Perfect mom to say that youngest has a body odor problem. She wears her white un-shredded tights, unscuffed dress shoes and perfect hair in barrettes.

After breakfast, everyone skips off to school with a cheery "Goodbye mother! I can't wait to go to school! It's going to be a swell day!"

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Are you laughing yet?

Sometimes I wish I was a Perfect Mom and had a Perfect Life. Instead - a typical day goes like this:

Firstborn gets up - maybe he takes out the dogs. If he steps in something wet or squishy he usually remembers. After dogs, he opens the bedroom door to either tell me he's overslept and needs a ride, or wondering what he can have for breakfast. My usual response to this is "Errrrguuuummmmshhhhhleeeew" If he persists, he can get a response out of me and sneak unusual breakfast foods (Pie? sure. Ramen? why not. Cake and ice cream? Okay!) Later, when my alarm finishes going off (I hit snooze until I can't hit snooze anymore) I crawl out of bed and into the shower. I turn the tap water for brushing teeth from hot to cold and turn the shower water from scalding to very warm. After the shower, I go roust the girls. Youngest jumps out of bed easily, hair stuck every which way, but Middlechild has my sleep genes. It takes at least 10 minutes to get her out of bed. Once all fights are resolved about clothing and whose is whose - a slice of bread is shoved into their hands and either koolaid or water is chugged on the way out to the car. DH takes them to the bus stop while I race the clock to work.

As much as I yearn for Perfect Mom and Perfect Life, it seems boring. I think I'd rather get a nice early morning sprint after Coco to shut her up before the neighbors actually call the pound, drivign Firstborn to school in my pajamas a couple times has embarassed him enough that he hasn't missed the bus in a while and I just start earlier with Middlechild. Nothing will change her I'm afraid.

3 Comments:

Blogger Cate said...

You must have been watching the Stepford wives. NObody's that perfect! We all just do the best we can.

11/28/2005 10:40:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I remember those days... but I won't embarass you or me for that matter. You only get PERFECT when you become a grandmother and give advise to daughters on how to raise their children (smile)... See how perfect I have become? I Love you! Just do the best you can and love the kids all you can.... they grow up too fast. Love MOM

11/29/2005 07:46:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I have to agree! Perfect would be too boring. Although, sometimes I wish we were a little closer to perfect. Rachel

11/29/2005 09:20:00 AM  

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