I got The Look again from Boy-o's teacher.
Oh god. I hate The Look.
Though I should be used to it by now. I get it from multiple directions and people, sometimes multiple times a week. And usually I can brush it off with a quick check-in, a deep breath and a reminder to myself, that as far as moms go, I'm actually halfway decent.
But this morning, The Look (which is a mixture of annoyance and plaintive 'why can't you be more responsible and on top of other things like the other mom?'-ishness) makes me shrivel and wilt into that bad-mom place.
For the record, the other mom is more responsible and detail savvy. I freely admit that this is verily true. And it's also true that the details of daily life, they are not my best skill set. I have other strengths. Many, even. Intuition. Big picture thinking. If you are feeling sad or unsteady in your world, I'm the girl you want standing next to you. Unflagging loyalty. I'm fairly articulate and sometimes a little funny. And by god, if you are lucky enough to be loved by me, that heart of mine is as open and giving as they come. I also make a mean quiche and my cookies are freaking outta this world. I got skills. Mad skills.
But I do not do those earthly daily details well. I lose keys and bank cards. (Like multiple times a day). I forget appts. I forget to pay bills, like the parking tickets I get because I forget to plug the meter. I forget to eat breakfast. And I almost never, ever time the school run right. And thus, I get The Look.
And today The Look is harder to take than most days. Because we've had a morning from hell. Like, not just a bit o' purgatory-leanings-towards-hell. Hell-hell. Hot-fires-of-molten-lava-tears-and-damnation-hell. And because this morning of hell is my fault. I kept the kids up past their bedtime so that I could go to an evening lecture at school. Selfish. But true. I know they don't sleep in. I know Boy-o is wayyyy more challenging than usual when tired. (And as a kid with sensitivity issues, challenging at the best of times is how we roll). I know these things. But I did it anyways. And when the morning brings tantrums and attitude and dragging feet and shattering glass, I should not be surprised. When I am brought to tears not once, but twice just trying to get them out the door, I should not be surprised. When Boy-o jumps in a snow-bank sans snow pants and I have to go back and grab him an entirely new outfit, I should not be surprised. When we are late for school, I should not be surprised. And so when I get The Look, I should not be surprised.
I'm not surprised, not really - but I am a little heart-sore.Heart-sore that it's hard to juggle the priorities and I don't always get it right. Heart-sore that I'm sending my sweet Boy-o off to school (which is often overwhelming for him at the best of times) over-tired, teary and raw from a morning of struggle. Heart-sore because this is another one of those 'you can't have it all' moments.
Heart-sore because this morning, The Look is probably very well-deserved.