From Hero to Zero...and Back

I've learned the fastest way to go from Super Mom to Sucky Mom in about 2.2 seconds... and then, back Cloud 9.  Never a dull moment, I tell you.  Never a dull moment.

I've been feeling kind of superhero-ish today.  After making pancakes (from scratch... always from scratch... not to brag (okay, I'm bragging) but the kids beg for my pancakes and waffles...) for breakfast, getting the kids squared away and kissed, and sending my husband off with a smile and smooch, I cleaned up, showered, and took stock of groceries for the rest of the week.  I can't remember which blogger I've stolen the idea from, but at the January, I wrote out a menu for the entire month of February, with the goal of, at least 90% of the time, working with that.  I wanted to save money by not buying ingredients I may already have and by also working within the same ingredient framework for the week, and reading her tales (I cant remember who, UGH!!!), I thought I'd give this a try.  So far, so good.  I mean, it's only the 7th, but hey!  So, I decided to take stock of the things needed for the 7th-10th, for the following meals:
Tonight: veggie wraps with veggie soup
Tomorrow: chili with cornbread
Saturday: chicken parm with pasta, garlic bread, and salad
Sunday: crabcakes benedict with asparagus

I scope out the freezer, cabinets, and pantry, and make the list of the items I'm still in need of.  I start making the vegetable soup before I even leave (since I have 90% of those ingredients on hand, and the other 10% can be added when I get back from the store), and off I go!  Full of energy, knowing I have time to get all this done and then some before I need to leave at 11:30 to pick up the kids from preschool.

Groceries, check (and, to the 70+ year old woman who was smoking in her car AND had parked in the "Expectant Mother" parking spot- not cool.  On so many counts) and back home, where everything is unloaded, put away, remaining ingredients added to crockpot, ingredients for brownies put on the counter, and done.  I still have time, so I even make the chicken parm (2 batches!) and still them in the back freezer, which I will be grateful for come Saturday (and the next time chicken parm is on the menu).

Got the kitchen cleaned and squared away, and off to get the kids, where I'm able to relax with a great book (more on that in another post) and even chat with our former priest, Fr. B., whom our family adores as he was leaving from a visit to the school (our school is a combination of our parish, along with our old parish and the parish in the next town).  We had a nice little chat, before I was able to talk with Bobby's BSC and PCA (a good day! yay!) and then I collected the peanuts for our 5 minute ride home and "how was school" conversation.

All good! Lunch- success!  Potty and clean up- perfection!  Nap prep...

Nap prep...

Nap prep... This is where it started to go downhill.  When I asked who wanted to pray, Bobby chimed in and began praying the Our Father, in the most adorable way that he does.  Which is great...

Except for Maya.  Who is demanding, no DEMANDING, that he pray the Hail Mary instead.  (Normally, the Hail Mary is the pre-nap prayer; at bedtime, the kids choose one of 2 icons, either Jesus or Mary, and the holder of the coordinating icon says an Our Father or Hail Mary).  He's just going about his business, praying, oblivious to her shaningans, but I can't take it and suddenly Zen Mama becomes SHUTTHEHELLUPMAMA and I tell her that a) if she doesnt knock it off she wont get a magnet for 'no whining' (something we're working on) and that b) being disprespectful during prayer time is worse than whining.  She stops, he finishes praying, and she's sobbing.  I wasn't mean to her, but she HATES being told no.  (And, honestly, I think she was crying because she thinks she's not getting a magnet...The joys of bribery).  So I ask what's wrong, and she says she's not whining and wants her magnet (see- told you), and that we HAVE to pray the Hail Mary before nap.  So, I ask if she wants to pray: no.  Does she want me to pray: yes.

I start praying and, midway through, BAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And crying.

Bobby was (I can only guess, since my back was to him) climbing over the side of his loft bed, missed a step, and crashed to the floor.  I run over and he's on his back, arm twisted up (he saved his bear- almost broke his arm, but thank God that his lovey bear didnt hit the floor), crying.  I pick him up, soothe him, finish the prayer (Maya was looking at me, saying "Pray for us sinners?"), and start to sing.  After checking his arm (not broken, thank goodness), I snuggle him and continue singing, when he looks up: "I love you, Mama."

Okay, so maybe I'm not the biggest loser in the world because your sister sobbed during prayertime and then you nearly concuss yourself climbing from your bed... 

Of course, now they are both napping; my grocery list for Feb 11-15 is already vetted and ready to go; and I'm ready to go relax on the couch with my book.  Maybe I'm back to superhero status afterall...