Circus.

I posted this on FB this morning: There needs to be a reality show showcasing the mornings of working mothers. Some of them you would cheer for like GO GO GO you have 3 min 18 seconds to get out the door and you still have to pee the dog, do your hair, grab a can of tuna and crackers that you call lunch, and load up the car. You would be on the edge of your seat, heart racing, yelling YOU CAN DO IT. And others, it would be like a train wreck where you don’t want to look but you can’t help it. You would want to say, honey child just throw in the towel and call in “sick.” You would have your favorites where you would really be pulling for them to get.it.together. Some not so favorites, like… sister you have no business being a part of the working world. And then when we finally make it to our ‘sanctuary’ of work, where we don’t have to spend 8 hours looking at the unorganized chaos and mess that we call ‘home,’ we sit in meetings, sometimes only half-listening because we are still mulling over the fact that our 6 year old son asked if he could have a princess themed party at his next birthday. From there, your thoughts turn to the romanticism of it all, that he must truly love this girl to make such a sacrifice. I mean, it never hurts to have a plan in place to woo the love of your life especially when your birthday is not for another 8 months. Now that’s love. Once we settle in and get down to the business of work, we proudly marvel that today’s act of getting out the door was a true miracle and we can’t wait to see what tomorrow morning brings. Seriously I feel like some mornings I am a monkey in a circus. It's comical when I look back at the morning and think how hysterically funny that would be to re-play and watch. Over and over.