My kids slept like shit last night.
So I slept like shit. They came and got in bed with us after “nightmares” at 3 am. We were too sleepy to kick them out. They kicked and tossed and turned and I couldn’t sleep. I went and slept in the spare room after an hour or so. I set my alarm for 630 like a good girl, though. But at 6 they ran into my bed in the guest room. I held them down and tried to make them go back to sleep. When my alarm went off, I let them up. But accidentally fell back asleep for an hour. So we were running around like crazy people because what I usually have an hour and 15 minutes to do I had just 15 minutes. And of course, because the kids slept like shit…
They were assholes all of those 15 minutes.
So when I get in the car, the whining has beaten my soul. I have no other recourse but to just turn my music up and try to drown their fighting over absolutely nothing out. And that’s how I pulled up to the drop off line. With kids screaming and my music blaring. I hadn’t paid attention to what it was, really just 90s music on Pandora.
It was Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre.
So we roll up like gangstas and I don’t hardly notice. My hair, which is always a mess anyways because it’s a tight curl fro, is pulled into little ponytails so I fit the music. And I’m wearing the baggiest jeans I own and the wife beater tank top I slept in. Because I didn’t really have time to fully dress. I look like Coolio. I also have poison ivy so I have band aides all over my arms and my ear is swollen up. Not sure what that adds to the visual, but there it is.
Did I mention my daughter goes to a Catholic School?
I get out, smile and wave to the teachers and parents as if this were a normal morning and I were a normal suburban white chick. I think I’m pulling it off. No one knows I don’t have my shit together. I give my baby her back back, give her a kiss and tell her to have a great day. A teacher comes and grabs her hand and starts to walk her in. Because it’s late and her school’s quite small there’s no crowd of kids going in, just a bunch of teachers and parents chatting outside while the kids prepare for morning prayer in the gym. When my daughter gets to the door, she turns around with one hand on her hip and still holding the teachers hand she yells her loudest:
“Mommy that is NOT my favorite song!”
And then storms off into the gym. And leaves me with my mouth open and teachers (and nuns) looking at me harshly. I burst out laughing and a couple teachers crack a smile or two but for the most part I know it wasn’t well received.
OK, Tomorrow I’ll get up early and shower and do my hair and try to fit into a more typical “mom” box. I’ll even put pumpkin spice in my coffee and wear leggings and boots. I’ll play kids music or some shit. I don’t know.
Oh well. At least I know they won’t contact me to run for the PTA again.
And I’m not proof reading this. THAT’s how tired I am.