Things start to fall apart around October. Fun-filled days of making new friends, homework-light evenings and random after-school activities disappear. Suddenly, the vortex of all black holes emerges just before Thanksgiving, swirling everything around you for months on end until you end up on the other side of the year. Last Tuesday was a perfect example of this seasonal phenomenon. The alarm-clock croaked at 5:30am. I slapped it off, waiting to hear if my oldest daughter had started stirring. Her alarm goes off at 5:45am. I lay there mulling over the day’s schedule. Finally, I did hear clunk, clunk, clank of doors and drawers slamming shut by a grumbling pre-teen getting ready for school. Sigh. It had begun.

Rush to eat breakfast.

Rush to make lunch.

Rush to find shoes that match.

Rush to find a coat that fits.

Rush to the bus-stop by 6:45am.

7:00 am reprieve.

There is a 45 minute window between my children each morning. I really should utilize it to do something productive, like take a shower. But instead, I use it to have another cup of coffee, check email, or write. It’s quiet and it is all mine. Unfortunately, I continually let the time slip away from me often and before I know it, it’s 8:00am and my third grader needs to be at school by 8:45am. We live just under a mile from her elementary school, so I drive her e-v-e-r-y-d-a-y. Yes, I am well aware that it literally takes us 7 minutes from door to door, and yet, we are always getting there just as the first bell is ringing. The drop-off lane is immense and there are all kinds of crazy drivers swerving in and out of parking slips because they were too impatient to wait in the car lane, so instead they park and walk their children through the busy parking lot. Then of course, they want to back out their cars while everyone else is waiting in line to drop off their children. I must admit, I am unforgiving.

Calgon, take me away.

I glanced up at the clock last Tuesday morning and was shocked to see it glaring 8:15am. Holy Crap! I ran up stairs shouting, “Wake up! Wake up! We’re going to be late for school!”

“Huh?” eeked a very sleepy little girl, “Again?”

Mother of the year, right here people.

Clothes came flying out of drawers, because heaven forbid I should ever lay them out the night before, hair was sprayed down, frozen waffles popped into the toaster to eat on the way to school and lunch thrown into her backpack: dry Cheerios, a granola bar, string cheese and a carton of chocolate milk. Only the best for my kids,you know.  As she was getting her shoes and coat on, I quickly hustled to pull on some jeans and tennis shoes. My bed-head hair easily slipped into a pony-tail and out the door we ran.

We made it on time. Barely.

After morning drop-off I had a hundred and one things on my “to-do” list as usual and began driving around town to get them all done.Things seemed to fall into place as I checked off each item on my list. Later that afternoon, I headed back up to school to help run an after-school leadership and running program for third and fourth grade girls. By 3:45pm I was standing in the hallway outside my daughter’s school office, a large plastic bin cradled in my arms. The bell would ring in about 10 minutes, and parents were already lined up to pick up children. I was just waiting for my room to open up so that I could get my lessons started. The longer I stood there, the more I could smell myself. It was sort of a cross between Frito’s and a sweaty locker room kind of smell. My brain slowly replayed the day, pointing out to me that I had not taken a shower. Again.

“When did I last take a shower?” I thought to myself.

To my horror, I realized it was Saturday night. This was day three without a shower. Then I glanced more closely at myself. Tennis shoes…jeans…pink fleece pajama top. Gasp! In my morning panic, I had only changed out of my pajama bottoms. I wore my pajama top all day long.

And, yes, you guessed it, no bra either.