Guilt

Oh, what a morning.

Somehow, I managed to upset all three of my children at one time or another this morning before school.

What is it about the transition from the easy summer mornings of pajama playtime and breakfast by 9:00 a.m. to the hustle of the 6:30 alarm, uniforms, bookbags, packed lunches, and tardy slips that turns me from the fairy-godmother-mom to wicked-stepmother-mom?

On school days, my children call my hairspray "grouch spray". It was true this morning. They all agreed I was a grouch, first class.

Thank goodness for their Dad, though. At breakfast, he made sure to give each child a hug and kiss and tell them how nice they looked. He brought a smile to their faces.

I wondered whether he was playing good cop-bad cop. Or good-parent bad-parent. I was conscious of the fact that I could have crabbed at him, too, for showing me up. In the end, though, I didn't mind. At least one of us had his priorities right this morning.

I spent a little quiet time on the way to school, thinking gloomily about missing them while they were gone. And I regretted being grouchy as a means to get them out the door on time.

I did my best to make it up to my boys by leaving them with an extra hug and kiss. They left the car with smiles on their faces, but it didn't help the feeling I have that I wasn't fair to them this morning.

I guess that's the reality of motherhood. Sometimes things don't go according to plan. Sometimes, I'm not the ideal parent I hope to be. I make mistakes; I'm impatient or crabby or hot-headed. And afterward, I feel guilty.

So, this afternoon, when the boys come home, I'll take the time to apologize. And I'll try to make the evening as positive and nurturing as I can.

At the end of the day, I hope that's the part they'll remember.

- Midwest Mom