It’s amazing what a little space can do.

This morning, Me First had a music presentation at school, at 8:30, no less. I know that in America that is not an ungodly hour, but here in the land of hang your laundry out with the rising sun after serving grilled fish for breakfast and making bento, 8:30 is really early.

It was pouring down rain, so there was no laundry to hang, but we still managed to be really harried this morning. Ah yes, I remember. Something about crooked pigtails and I’m still hungrryyy…

The kids did a great job. It was cute. But then came the comment time. Does anyone remember Sparkly Mom? They called on her for a comment, and she put on an Oscar worthy performance, tears and all. What the… Another woman’s tears I may have believed, but Sparkly Mom? Con.trived.

All of the comments were of a teary nature, and I’m wondering if that’s the new norm. Thank god they didn’t call on me, I would have been like great job, thumbs up.

Me Too and I dashed home in a lighting storm that had whipped itself into a frenzy around us, because of course I had yet to finish making her lunch. Finally got her off to school only ten minutes late (this is OUR new normal of late,) and then?


First time in several months the three of us were away from each other.

And here’s the amazing thing about space: when we were reunited in the afternoon, we were glad to see each other. The children didn’t fight (much.) I didn’t nag (much.) And for the first time in a long time, I’m not kissing their round, sleepy cheeks feeling remorseful for all of my failings as a mother. Nah, was okay. I was enough.

Good job, thumbs up, sniff sniff.


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