Super Mom and Speeches.

I was really hoping today would go the way I envisioned it in my head.

Bread baking in the oven, finishing just in time for my mom and sister to arrive for tea, resulting in fresh bread with butter and jam as a light luncheon. Cookies baked to perfection at a point appropriate for sharing with my lovely neighbour across the hall. All the dishes done so my kitchen would have that sparkly magazine feel. Supper cooking so that my darling husband would arrive home to delicious smells, and be fed well before he turns into Oscar the grouch from starvation. My children would be bathed and smelling like that nice fresh baby scent everyone loves so much, and happily in bed on time.

Life is a cruel irony.

The bread I was hoping to bake hasn’t even been started yet, my mom and sister arrived in time for me to get my still-pajama’d self off my proverbial heiny to make them Kraft Dinner with Tuna, and steep unmade tea, which I forgot to pour until they were ready to go. (It’s fully steeped now!) My cookies are also unbaked, however, I feel as though there may be hope for them in the morning, as I promised the kids next door that they could come for cookies after school, and I am now tied into the most binding of contracts (ergo they will be done or else I will suffer the sadness and anguish of two very adorable boys). I got the sink empty, that was about it. (It’s nowhere near magazine sparkly). Supper, well, I’m still eating supper, so if you’d like to extrapolate, you can tell it didn’t go the way I was hoping. In fact, I had to go out on an hour long errand just to make sure I had the stuff to cook it with. I did, however, get a coffee out of it. Hubby braved starvation without the Oscar the grouch ending. (Given my track record about dinner being anywhere close to a decent eating hour, it’s amazing Oscar doesn’t come out daily.) Skipped the baths, I settled for being the cloth that divested Littlest of his sweet potato face, there’s nothing sexier than sweet potato on your boob… right? Annnnd… Littlest just went to bed about 10 minutes ago.

You’d think, at some point, I’d realize that there’s no such thing as super mom, and I should really stop daydreaming about a movie I saw once where the mom was superhuman, and plan for maybe just having dinner ready, but nooooooo.

I did, however, write my speech for my maid-of-honor toast I may or may not have to give at my sister’s wedding.

I’m going to attempt to be less grandiose tomorrow. I’ll let you know how it goes (although I seem to be trending in the way of never learning my lesson, so we’ll see).


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