Enter, Super-Mom...

The Hubbs is in Toronto for work, which means I get to play the role of super-mom for a couple days.

This is not a role I aspire to or buy into. My identity is not shaped by my momness, my ability to to do all - work, keep a clean and organized home, have impeccably dressed and groomed children and still have time to look fantastic and post my intricate-martha-stewart-rivalling ideas on Pinterest. This is of great interest to some other moms, and good for them if that's what floats their boats.

For me, my boat is floated - if you will - by being a part of an egalitarian partnership in which we put our lives first and materials and appearances second.

So, when Hubbs tells me he's going on a work trip, I pretty much hyperventilate. Not because I can't handle it, but because it upsets the delicate balance I believe we've created together. We complement each other as parents and are learning to complement each other as life partners.

So, this morning started out well. I put my super-mom cap on and jumped out of bed at 5:55AM. Jumped may be an over-statement for a 32 week along pregnant woman, but it makes for a good image - no? I was showered and ready for the day by 6:56AM. I had breakfast for both kids on the table, had placed their outdoor and indoor shoes at the front door, along with their coats and was ready to wake them up.

I immediately started with lights on, singing the "good morning starshine" song (that I have no recollection from where I got it) to create a situation of "positive mood" in both babes. They were both giggling and cooperating as I changed their bums and helped them get on their clothes as I repeated "Ok, come on, we gotta go, go, go! Mommy has to get to work and you two have to get to daycare!"

As I made my breakfast and poured my coffee into a to-go mug, they laughed and chatted as they ate their breakfasts (a cereal bar and a glass of milk - breakfast of champions! ahem).

I could barely contain my excitement and keep from patting my own back as I had them at the front door at 7:22AM helping them with their boots and coats.

It was when I got them into the car that the first meltdown ensued. As I clipped my little guy into his car seat (bear in mind, I've squished my pregnant-out-of-shape self through the rear lift gate and into the "trunk" of the van to achieve this as we've already got the van ready to go for all three kids upon baby's arrival) I inadvertently scraped his back with one of the clips as I was pulling it over his shoulder. He started to cry and asking for his "tiger blankie". Oh crap, it's in the house. Oh crap, please stop crying and keep cooperating. Ok, ok, I'll get your blanket. Baby girl do you want yours too? Ok, Mommy will get it. 

I sprinted back into the house (just go with it), got the blankets, grabbed my breakfast, coffee and purse and headed back to the van. I handed each of them their blankets which made both very happy. They smiled, I got into the front seat, buckled up and we were on the road.

7:28AM

I am a god.

We pulled up to the daycare and, to my delight, both kids started to cheer - this drop-off was going to go really well, I can feel it.

I got them inside, convinced them both that they had to remove their jackets and boots and put on their indoor shoes, made it happen and walked them to their room. My little guy gave me a big kiss and forgot I was there within a nanosecond. My little lady, not so much.

She stood beside her brother, expectantly, awaiting her kiss but as I turned to walk away, she began to follow, waving to her brother and the others in the room. Oh craptastic.

The suckage ensued.

I turned back to her and said "Oh, no, sweety, sorry, you have to stay here at daycare and Mommy has to go to work." Instantly she burst into tears. And, just as instantly, my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. CRAP!!

This is a really tough situation for parents. So many get caught up and their instincts tell them to stay and try to ease the child into daycare. But as much as it seems like the best thing for the child, it isn't. It simply prolongs the child's upset and tears. Daycare drop-offs need to be like pulling off a band-aid, quick - even if painful.

I picked my little darling up, hugged and kissed her, told her I loved her and would come and get her after work and handed her off to one of the caregivers in the room. The poor little punkin' screeched and held her arms out for me. My heart sunk even lower in my stomach as I turned my back and quickly made my departure.

I wanted to cry as I got into my van but I didn't let myself. I knew she would be ok, rationally, but emotionally I wanted to call in sick and spend the day with my babies.

Nonetheless, I put the van into gear and headed to work.

It's moments like these that make it very hard to do what I know is best for me and for my family (in the long run, at the very least), but I take a deep breath, and persevere. Tomorrow is another day.