He was already at school.
As I said, a motherhood-panic-attack.
So I did what any mom would do. I called the school. But I was sorry to discover that the pictures could not be ordered online, and so I had to make a trip into the school in person. By eight oíclock, nonetheless. There I stood, un-showered, in sweatpants, with no makeup on and un-brushed hair, and a split second decision to make. Should I risk the humiliation of showing up at my sonís school in my current condition or should I just let it go and not purchase any school pictures. The latter choice would also involve assuming that Colin was dressed in photo-appropriate attire.
Yep, you guessed it. I decided to risk humiliation.
I slapped on some flip flops, grabbed a jacket and headed into the school.
When I arrived, there were no parking spots left, so I pulled up and left my hazards on to run in and turn in the school picture form in the office. And that is when I saw motherhood at its best.
There were two other moms, looking like they had just rolled out of bed, messy hair, no makeup in sweatpants running in to take care of their own last minute panic attacks. Suddenly, I felt much less humiliated and much more comfortable.
Lesley and Corinne stood there with me outside of the school as we all laughed at our predicament. (Note: I have changed the names to protect the innocent moms.) Lesley had no idea it was picture day, and her son needed a change of clothes. Corinneís daughter had forgotten her outfit and picture form at home. Ahhh, motherhood.
The best part wasnít that others had the same panic attack; the best part was that we all looked like we had just rolled out of bed. We all had the same split second decision to make, and we all put the kids first at the risk of public humiliation at our disheveled appearances.
Seeing Lesley and Corinne made me feel better, I might even say normal. And that was a neat blessing.
I have often talked about the ministry of mediocrity, and truly believe that the best gift we, as women, give to each other is to let our hair down and get real. And the truth is reality is not beautiful. Reality is, well, mediocre. We all have dishes in our sink, laundry on our floors and UFOs (unknown food objects) on our kitchen floors. We all show up at school on picture day in sweatpants, without makeup in order to save the day.
Heroes, we are heroes.
Sometimes we forget, and we try to put our best face forward. Other times, reality smacks us in the face, and we are stuck getting real with each other.
I think those are the best times.
So I survived another motherhood-panic-attack, and ended up being reminded that motherhood is chaotic and messy, and that we donít need journey the clutter-ridden path alone.
And that, my friends, is motherhood at its best!
Published: October 7, 2012