Exit Stage Mom

Hello my loves!

Okay, so I’m sort of prat-falling through life right now, working to find some footing post-heart drama, current-brain damage and it’s created some interesting moments.

Mostly it’s full of inconveniences that I can laugh at. Like how I’ve forgotten how to use apostrophes.

Seriously. That’s a thing that happened. The laws of apostrophes escape me. I know what they are, and that I’m supposed to use them, but other than contractions, I’ve got nothing. I will use them completely wrong. It’s bizarre. (It’s okay to laugh at this. People do.)

Or like when I’m signing my kid out of preschool and I forget how to spell his name. That I can laugh at.

There have been some unfortunate glitches like thinking I paid a bill in cash only to discover later I actually wrote a check that I big fat did not mark down in my checkbook. That wasn’t cool. But hardy har! Glitch! I can laugh these things off, people!

I did a presentation on social media last week and I was a little worried about glitching on words mid-speech and had a plan to throw candy at whoever could call out the word I’d forgotten. I worried about possible insurance scenarios, so I just giggled at the idea in my head.

So, like I said, mostly just annoying, nothing too hideous.

Until tonight.

Lord save me.

Through all the medical drama and hooplah, I’ve done my darndest to keep life relatively copacetic for the tots. My daughter had been asking for months to start up with this theater group in our town, and being a former theater major, I was like, HELL YES THE LEGACY LIVES ON.

Once I’d gotten to a functional state, I signed her up, and all was well with the world.

She loved it so much, she talked me into bringing her little brother along with her this week so he could join her class.

Let me lay this scene out for you: It’s Monday. I have a raging case of PMS, y’all, I’m not eve going to mince words here. I had already run a million errands, fought with my doctor’s office over a newly changed policy involving them needing 72 hours to fill prescription refills and my being out of a medicine that I can’t be off of, and them giving me a shrug and a “Sorry, that’s the policy!” while I sit here wondering what the next three days without an important pill will feel like. I’ve done exactly no shopping for Thanksgiving, my house is a disaster, money as a concept has abandoned all hope here, and I’ve been fighting a weird stretch of insomnia for about six weeks that’s super fun.

Oh, and I’d already taken my pants off for the day.

I think you can picture my mood, here.

But I was smiling. I was ready. I was MOMMY, damn it.

I got the kiddos dressed, I even let the Little Sir wear his Olaf jammies because hey, he’s four and he was wearing actual clothing and who the actual fuck cares, amirite?

We get in the car, we drive, we shiver because oh my diggity damn is it cold out. We get to the theater to see everyone standing on the sidewalk outside.

The kids and I unload and frolic up to everyone. I ask if the doors are locked.

The teacher, quite annoyed says, “Yes, because we are done. Class is over.”

Me: “Wait, what?”

Her: “Class was at five. Like it has been for the last two weeks. At five. Not six like it is now. Five.”



Me: *blink, blink* “I’m sorry, WHAT.”

Teacher then leans down and starts explaining to my kids that Mommy didn’t really *mean* to mess it up, that all they have to do is memorize this song for next week and it will be fine, and just remind Mommy to look up this song, and ALL WILL BE FINE.

I tried apologizing to the kids saying Mommy had glitched, and I was so sorry, and I can’t believe I made this mistake, and OH HEY WHO WANTS CANDY!?

Teacher leans down again and says Mommies make mistakes and forget things but maybe Mommy will set an alarm next week so she won’t make the same mistake again.

It’s right here where Mommy flips her shit and possibly shouts, “Okay, look, Mommy had a heart attack and Mommy has a glitchy brain, and Mommy is doing the best she can and Mommy already feels really darn bad, so let’s all go figure out how MOMMY can go make this up to everyone, OKAY?”

I wrangle my still sobbing, hysterical children back to the car as the other parents stand, judging me. Like, full on judging me. Shaking heads, silent stares. Oh gods.

My daughter, through broken, coughing fits from the gasping sobs can be heard wailing, “But…this was so-ooooo…importaaaaaant…to….meeeeeeeeee!” just as my son let’s out, “I’ll never get to go to theater ever, ever, EVER! The door will always be locked for ALWAYS.”

And then you could hear me desperately say, “THIS WOULD BE A REALLY GREAT TIME FOR YOU GUYS TO ASK FOR A PONY I AM JUST SAYING.”

I sat in the car trying to calm them down for I don’t even know how long, promising to make it up to them, them reveling in the guilty mom. I don’t even know what I agreed to on the drive home. I know I stopped and got both McDonald’s *and* Subway for dinner. I’m pretty sure I’ve promised them a trip to the Children’s Museum in the near future. Lola said something about a functional mermaid costume. Miles wants to be a Ninja Turtle. I probably have to buy a pony now, fuck if I know.

But then they started pushing too hard. The cashier at Subway didn’t say hi back to them. They didn’t get to see the truck at the stoplight with the blue lights. All said in that sobby voice of WHY MOMMY HAVE YOU LET US DOWN SO.

I was finally Monday’d out.

“Guys, Mommy feels really, really bad. Because I made a big mistake. And I’m going to continue to feel bad about it. I will absolutely make this up to you both. And we will all likely remember this for years and you will probably tell your therapists about this in your thirties because parenting. But you guys are laying it on really thick right now and Mommy is about two seconds from either crying or screaming and I don’t know which side of the line it’s going to land on SO TREAD LIGHTLY MY SWEET CHILDREN I LOVE YOU.”

It was spoken with a cheerful tone and a big, authentic smile and ended with a laugh that was just one pale shade away from legitimate madness.

Probably not my finest parenting moment.

So. Basically, today went super well, you guys.

In case anyone is worried about the emotional turmoil of that outburst, after, we fetched dinner, and on the drive home went driving around looking for Christmas lights and all my sins were apparently forgiven.

Some of that forgiveness might very well be hinged on a pony though. I don’t really know. Let’s see how that plays out.

I hope you all are having fantastic weeks!

Until next time,

Peace, Love, and Ponies.

1 Comment

  1. You are a treasure, you know, being able to laugh at moments like that, especially since they are not in the distant past. Your children will remember and value you all the more when they’re grown.

    Not sure if you’re on the hook for the pony thing. Ha ha. Did you actually specify “real” pony? Buy Lola a My Little Pony and Miles a horsey figurine. They’ll probably love ’em.

    Stay strong and keep laughing. And remember, people are keeping you in their thoughts and prayers.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.