'Mama, you're the best!'

It was one of those days...

Me: 'A!'

A: 'Yes Mama.'

Me: 'Come upstairs please.'

A: 'Okay mama.'

I give her a shirt. 'We have to go to Giant.' ( Yes, I know that's all where I take you. Not to the park, not to the playground, not to play in the snow, or to ride your bike in summer- I take you to Giant, to CVS, to Target.)

A: 'Ohh!! I love Giant!' (uh-okay...love it? really? isn't that a rather strong word to use for a grocery store? Well, at least she has not started using 'hate' as fervently. At least not yet.)

A: 'We don't have any cereal, we can get some cereal.'

Me: 'Yes.'

A: 'And we don't have apple juice. Do we have apple juice?'

Me: 'No it finished.'

A: 'So, we can get apple juice. I like apple juice. And apples. Do we have apples?'

Me: 'I think we do.' (Do we? I have been procrastinating about getting groceries for a while...)

A: 'I don't think we do. We can check. But I checked in the banana hanging thing, and there weren't any apples. So, you can check in the banana hanging thing, and get apples. okay?'

I smile.

A: 'And we have to get fruit rollups! Don't forget fruit rollups! Grandma has fruit rollups and cookies.'

Me: 'Okay....' (Yeah I know Grandma's pantry and fridge actually carry things they are made for.)

A: 'And cereal straws. We don't have cereal straws. Grandma has cereal straws. We can get cereal straws. Heyyyy, where did the hamper go?'

Me: 'In the other room.' (Because its overflowing, and was getting in everyone's way, so I deal with it like I deal with any other problem in my life: I hide it, and pretend like its not there anymore.)

She laughs, 'Silly hamper!Where are my pants?'

Me: 'I'm looking for them.' I give her the only one that's not in the hamper.


A: 'Thankyou mama.' Starts struggling with the pants. 'It has a hole!!' (oh you noticed, eh?? Just wear'em kiddo, go with the flow! I hear they are back in fashion. Not that I would like her to follow this kind of fashion, but did I mention this is the only one not in the hamper or washer??)

To her I say: 'I can't find any other, baby.'

A: 'Oh, I like these pants!' (uh-oh. really?)

Me: 'Were you wearing socks?'

A: 'Yes. I took them off.'

Me: 'Where are they?'

She hands me one pink and one white.

Me: 'They don't match.'

A: 'Yes. One is mine, one is Z's.'

Me: 'But weren't you wearing these?'

A: 'Yes. You gave them to me.'

*sigh*

Me: 'Can you go find matching socks please?'

A: 'Okay.'

With Z in my arm, as I look through drawers for socks, hoping to find a decent pair of pants too, I feel bad for my kids. It was one of those days, when everything is waiting to be done - not enough grocery in the house, hampers overflowing, dishes towering in the sink... and I let these days come too often. I'm failing at this, I'm failing my kids.

'Mummaa' Z brings her face in front of mine. I look into her eyes.

'mmmwah!' a big, sloppy kiss that has the power to get not just my cheek but my eyes wet too.

A runs back in, 'Mama can you please close this button?'

I button up her pants, with a hole at the knee.

'Thanks Mama. You're the best!'

Really? Do you know there are moms out there who would not make their kid wear pants with holes, nor socks that do not match in size or color? Please don't find this out any time soon.