Bath-Robe & Slippers

My last post was about using a cleaning schedule. I noted in that post, that sometimes you get behind on things. Some days you miss tasks. Some weeks you miss tasks. And, some months are filled with idle days of recuperation.

That last one is about where I’m at these past few weeks. 

I am actually really great at giving advice on how to plan, organize, adjust, etc. But, I am also inherently lazy. So, sometimes I do not follow through with my own advice. The good thing I have going for me is that I eventually get out of my funk and get back on track. I consider that to be a win. After all, I truly do love to plan, organize, adjust, etc.

Now, let’s address the reason why I am writing today.

I drop my kids off for school in my bath robe and slippers.

To make matters worse, I have my pajamas (read tank top and athletic shorts) underneath said robe. I am not usually wearing a bra. My hair is unkempt, just thrown up into a messy bun or clip. And, I do not brush my teeth. 

If I were to get into a fender bender on the way to or from school drop-off,…knock on wood…I would run, guys. I would wave a sad, apologetic wave, and speed that minivan the hell out of there. Because, the state in which I drop the kids off for school is perhaps my worst look (maybe aside from freshman year photo day in H.S.). 

My “staying-at-home” didn’t start this way. In fact, in those days, I would have judged the crap out of me. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t be the mom in a robe, disheveled and scrambling to get the kids around. Why couldn’t she just put herself together? Why didn’t her vanity, or sense of self for goodness sake, motivate her to at least wash her face or brush her hair? And, a robe? It’s truly just fulfilling a stereotype.

The truth is, some of you are probably still judging me. I get it. From the outside in, I judge me too. I see plenty of stay-at-home moms who do the drop-off, who look fabulous. They stand tall and chit-chat with passers-by, while waving big at other parents. They are a far cry from me, who ducks my head and tries to hide behind anything and everything, as to not make eye-contact with anyone.

How I got here was a slow progression. It took me almost four years to perfect, in fact. And, not to brag, but I am killin’ it.

When I had one or two children to get around in the morning, I was managing to also spend some time on myself. Henry would be the one in his pajamas. He was a baby; it was expected. Some days I would choose to hit snooze one more time and forfeit make-up. And, some days, I would hit snooze two more times, and forfeit my makeup and hair. 

This may be a good time to remind you all that I hate mornings. I am not a morning person. I think my family members and particularly my husband thought that my disdain for mornings was just a juvenile phase in my life; that one of these days, I would grow-up and become a part of the morning society. Well, not so much. I am just a few days into 33, and well it’s looking like mornings are still the worst. Sorry, Husband.

In summation, when you hate mornings, making excuses to sleep a bit more is easy peasy. 

This year, everything changed. Yes, before now, I wouldn’t exactly want to see anyone at school drop-off. I certainly wasn’t ready for a close-up. But, it was manageable – not totally embarrassing. Perhaps everyone would think I was on my way to the gym or something. Then, all three of the kids were in school. 

Early in the year, I quickly realized that I had to get up significantly earlier to get us all around. In our house, it’s not as easy as waking them up, telling them to get dressed, and then going to get myself ready. My kids…they need constant supervision. It sucks to say that. But, it’s true. 

One time, I told Olive to brush her teeth and went to get ready. I checked on her 15 minutes later and she was dancing, half-naked in her room, and had still not brushed her stinkin’ teeth. Ugh. Unfortunately, my kids are only motivated by the continual barking of their mother. I mean, I am pretty damn good at it, if I say so myself.

So, leaving their side to go do other things for any extended period of time is out of the question. If I do anything, it has to be within ear-shot, so I can continue to sing my greatest hits: 

•  "Get ready!" 
• "We are gonna be late!
• "Fine. If you don't get around, you won't have time for breakfast."
• "If you want to be late, that's fine with me. It's up to you."
• "Leave each other alone!"
• "Don't look at each other; get dressed in separate rooms!"
• "Where are your shoes?"
• "Go find your shoes!"

While typing this, I had the epiphany to just record myself saying these things. I could get up and play it on a loop throughout the house. Hmmmm...perhaps this could streamline things…

Anyway, these hectic mornings of supervision taught me two things. I would either have to get up super early, before waking my kids, to get around for drop-off. Or, if I tried to get ready at the same time as my kids, I was rushed and cranky, and the mornings were miserable.

To make matters worse, after I do drop-off, I generally come home to sit down at my computer. I pay bills, put things on our calendars, send cards, buy gifts, work on my classes, or write blogs. So, I’d be sitting at the computer, by myself, with makeup on, after having rushed around, yelling at my kids, just to come back home. In those moments, I would reflect on how I’m doing as a parent and the time I had after drop-off to get around. Why did I rush to do it in such a short period of time, when I could just do it afterward, when I was alone?

I had decided that I wasn’t going to worry about my hair or makeup before school anymore.

And, as long as I was staying in the car the whole time…I decided not to brush my teeth either. The thing with that is… I don’t like the way my coffee tastes after I brush my teeth. So, I drink my coffee beforehand. Really, this is just a PSA; keep back at least three feet until after I’ve had my coffee (or am forced to actually go somewhere). 

Then, for Christmas, I asked for a robe and slippers. Letting the dogs out without them was mighty cold. Thankfully, I got both this year! I live in love them. 

But, little did my husband or father and step-mother know, they were enabling me. The robe and slippers became the first things I slipped on in the morning. And, I realized that I didn’t even have to put on a bra! I should…but, I don’t have to…so…ya know…I don’t.

And, so, the evolution was complete. Well, I think it is. I don’t know how it could get any worse, really. So, I think it is complete.

I think it is important for me to talk about this. It’s not because I feel the need to justify my actions. Although, I think it is good for some people to read about how I got this way. Ha ha. But, also, I think it is important for people to know that you choose your battles. I decided, I like the mornings a whole lot more when I don’t stress myself out about getting around. I focus on the kids, and on making coffee while they eat breakfast, and I worry about myself after 8 am. After drop-off, I take a deep breath and remember that I am also a person separate from being a mom. But, until that finish-line of drop-off, I am all-in with the morning routine.

Yes – many, many other parents manage to get all of their kids (more than three sometimes!) to school on time, while looking great, and presentable, and like they have it all together. And, they actually might. And, so many parents manage to get everyone in their house around for drop-off on their way to work – or get their kids to the bus stop. I applaud them. I really do. And, for the record, I was once one of them…

But, mornings were an absolute sh*t show at our house. And, for us, for our situation, I was always angry and lecturing, and it was no way to start the day – for any of us. So, I said, something’s gotta give. I can get up earlier, or worry less about the way I look. And, I chose to hit snooze two more times and say, to heck with my looks! (Secretly praying that I don’t actually run into anyone!)

That’s how I became the stay-at-home mom, who drops her kids off for school in a robe and slippers.

Sorry, kids! Maybe when you listen better, I will be more “put-together,” as to not embarrass you. Someday…