Together We Have it All

One of my favorite quotes is "We may not have it all together, but together we have it all." That especially describes our family or as I often quip, "The ADD family." As much as I would like to think that we are somewhat organized, I know that is definitely not the case. More often than not, even my best efforts cannot conquer chaotic mornings. 

On a typical melt down morning, my eight-year-old son and my five-year-old daughter flatly refuse to get out of bed and get ready for school. "Please let me sleep," is the plaintive reply each time I stomp back and forth from my son's room to my daughter's room. Eventually the children do tumble out of bed, but not without one of my tried and true strategies, one of which is to grab onto the child’s ankles and yank.

When brushing my daughter’s hair, I occupy her by dumping all the hair supplies on the floor for her to play with...messy but effective. Even the slightest tug on a stubborn knot will send her into orbit.  "Mommy didn't mean to hurt you," I say in the sweetest voice I can muster. My mother-in-law’s euphemisms run through my head, “You must win.” or “she just needs to know her hair must be done.” But even if I do win, I have lost in more ways than I have won. Her knight-in-shining armor, Daddy, races up the stairs and barks..."What are you doing to her?" My daughter sobs in her savior's arms simultaneously glaring at me, the big, bad mommy. “Let her do it the way she wants!” Hmm…does that mean she will leave the house for school looking like an orphan from “Annie.” It’s definitely a hard knock morning.

One morning, we were running late. The clock was racing ahead of us. When everyone was dressed and each child had a back pack (one item often left behind), we headed out the door to the van. In our rush down the street, we saw flashing lights behind us. Daddy had been stopped for speeding. As my husband sat with the police officer in the cruiser, my children began sobbing. Daddy was in trouble and the cops were going to take him away, despite my reassurances to the contrary. Finally, daddy came back to the car and all was well – he only got a warning. So, now, whenever the kids are slow getting ready for school, I smile, and remind them of the morning daddy got picked up for speeding.  Maybe they learned something from it. Maybe they didn’t. And maybe someday we will have it all together, but I doubt it.  I like us just the way we are…delightfully imperfect.