I was such an awesome mom this morning that I wore the shirt to prove it. It's a long-sleeved tee that I bought in the boys' department of Old Navy for $2 and it says "Awesome!" across the front.
That was this morning, when I was on top of the world. Or at least on top of my little world. At the very last minute before the school kids left I remembered the dress-like-a-pioneer-and-take-your-lunch-in-a-tin-pail field trip. I didn't even sweat. Kid was re-dressed and packed in amazingly record time.
Then the battery was dead in the Daddy car (usual ride to school). No biggie: I whipped up the toddler and baby, loaded all five offspring in the car and dropped them off before the tardy bell even thought about ringing. On the return home, I listened to NPR's partial listing of Nobel prize winners. I felt like I could fit right in.
I played with the least'uns, tidied the house, even organized my fabric piles a bit. OK, I just mostly moved the fabric piles around, but I did put some pieces aside for a project I have in the works. By the time the Big Ones got off the bus, I had a snack ready, stuff packed and hurried us off to the soccer-meets-football-meets-piano lessons that is our Monday afternoon.
Now I've finally put five exhausted children to bed (late), at least one sleeping in her clothes and another crying for reasons unknown.
I am not awesome anymore.
That's what happens when you change your shirt, I guess.