I forgot to move the elf (again), the light-up snowflake fell off the top of the house and the living room looks like a toy factory for Santa’s elves. I’ve unsuccessfully attempted to cook meatballs for the last two nights only to give in and order take-out. I didn’t take out the garbage this morning because I forgot last night. I forgot last night because I was rocking my 9-month-old to sleep while my 4-year-old continually crept in with requests every five or so minutes to either put cream on her back or change the music on Alexa. Her version of tip-toeing, of course, is unlike an adult’s version and it is always accompanied by a loud and mischievous “shhhhh,” willing the baby to wake up so she can torture-play with her some more.

What was I saying? Right. I forgot a lot of things this week. I printed out our Christmas card list that I had drummed up proudly. This year no family member would dare make fun of me for not sending out my cards! I’d send a card out to every single person we knew . . . just as soon as I remembered to bring the dumb list home from work. Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow. There was always tomorrow.

Tomorrow came and I was getting the girls ready for daycare. My older one wanted chicken nuggets for breakfast and the baby wanted to chow down on my shoulder like I was a chicken nugget. Ouch! Who knew 9-month-olds bit? I thought that was a toddler thing? I threw strawberries, yogurt, and a side of Entenmann’s coffee cakes on the table for my daughter, smiling proudly that I had not only won the breakfast battle but that I had also managed to serve her something half healthy, when the baby reached just far enough over her high chair to knock over the entire plate. My 4-year-old looked at me and said, “It’s OK, I’ll just have chicken nuggets.”

I moved the Elf on the Shelf to the banister (someone had to teach the girls a little pole dancing) while my daughters destroyed the playroom, again. I packed up the car for school before Justin Timberlake and Anna Kendrick brought it home at the end of Trolls Holiday. These millennial trolls sure beat the crap out of their fugly counterparts from the 90s.

On the drive to school, I played the role of Joan Cleaver and belted out Christmas carols with my 4-year-old. I wore a huge holiday smile accompanied by an equally huge drool stain on my favorite scarf, which reminded me that the baby was teething and needed a CVS run during lunch. Did it ever stop? After putting the baby’s items in the school’s refrigerator and hanging up her pink puffy coat and little winter hat, I took my older daughter’s hand and told the teacher to message me as usual if she needed me.

“The baby?” Her sweet teacher inquired.

“Yes, if you need anything with the baby,” I smiled cheerfully thinking I must not have been the only sleep-deprived one. I questioned leaving the baby there. I shut the door behind us and walked halfway to my other daughter’s classroom when I felt a tug on my hair. OH, the baby. Yes, I tend to wear my baby like an additional bag. Don’t judge until you have tried it yourself.

Her teacher and I had a good laugh at my expense while the baby gnawed and drooled on her sleeve. I then dropped off a very excited little girl who couldn’t wait for the creepy puppet show to start and drove my tired self to work.

When at work, my girlfriend picked half a Goldfish out of my hair and helped rinse the drool stain out of my scarf. I cared more about the fact that a Goldfish in my hair meant my daughter didn’t follow the breakfast rules and less that it had acted as temporary hairspray for the right side of my head. In my pre-kid youth, I had been told once I resembled Sarah Michelle Gellar and here I was the doppelganger for the lady with the pitchfork in the famous American Gothic painting.

This is my life. This is my life while my husband travels. Any questions?

Sometimes, my husband is away just one day. Other trips, he is gone four to five. Those trips humble me. Single parents deserve statues resurrected in their honor at the very least. I am truly in awe of their abilities because when my husband is gone just a few days, I’m forgetful with a side of impatience. This doesn’t mean I don’t love my children, it just means I have an insatiable hunger for serenity. I will admit though, I do relish in the chaos just a bit as well. Sometimes I pretend like I am in a sitcom and the director has asked us to really let loose on the next take and let me tell you—my kids nail it every time.

I forget a lot sometimes, especially when my husband is away, but I never forget to give love. Oh sweet slobbery baby kiss, love. It’s the kind of love that leaves drool on the side of your face after a face hug and makes your nose tickle with baby boogies after an Eskimo kiss.

The hectic mornings and exhausting nights are all worth it. We are all worth it as working mothers.

‘Tis the season for chaos personified with a side of love, right?

Originally published on the author’s blog

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Nicole Tynan

Nicole is an advertising executive by day, Momma by day, night and carrier pigeon and struggling writer by . . . whatever free time she has left! She's been published on BluntMoms and Theo Media. 

Our Kids Need Us as Much as We Need Them

In: Kids, Motherhood
Little boy sitting on bench with dog nearby, color photo

During a moment of sadness last week, my lively and joyful toddler voluntarily sat with me on the couch, holding hands and snuggling for a good hour. This brought comfort and happiness to the situation. At that moment, I realized sometimes our kids need us, sometimes we need them, and sometimes we need each other at the same time. Kids need us. From the moment they enter the world, infants express their needs through tiny (or loud) cries. Toddlers need lots of cuddling as their brains try to comprehend black, white, and all the colors of the expanding world around...

Keep Reading

Your Kids Don’t Need More Things, They Need More You

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Mother and young girl smiling together at home

He reached for my hand and then looked up. His sweet smile and lingering gaze flooded my weary heart with much-needed peace. “Thank you for taking me to the library, Mommy! It’s like we’re on a date! I like it when it’s just the two of us.” We entered the library, hand in hand, and headed toward the LEGO table. As I began gathering books nearby, I was surprised to feel my son’s arms around me. He gave me a quick squeeze and a kiss with an “I love you, Mommy” before returning to his LEGO—three separate times. My typically...

Keep Reading

This Time In the Passenger Seat is Precious

In: Kids, Motherhood, Teen
Teen driver with parent in passenger seat

When you’re parenting preteens and teens, it sometimes feels like you are an unpaid Uber driver. It can be a thankless job. During busy seasons, I spend 80 percent of my evenings driving, parking, dropping off, picking up, sitting in traffic, running errands, waiting in drive-thru lines. I say things like buckle your seat belt, turn that music down a little bit, take your trash inside, stop yelling—we are in the car, keep your hands to yourself, don’t make me turn this car around, get your feet off the back of the seat, this car is not a trash can,...

Keep Reading

So God Made My Daughter a Wrestler

In: Kids, Motherhood
Young female wrestler wearing mouth guard and wrestling singlet

God made my girl a wrestler. Gosh, those are words I would never have thought I would say or be so insanely proud to share with you. But I am. I know with 100 percent certainty and overwhelming pride that God made my girl a wrestler. But it’s been a journey. Probably one that started in the spring of 2010 when I was pregnant with my first baby and having the 20-week anatomy ultrasound. I remember hearing the word “girl” and squealing. I was over the moon excited—all I could think about were hair bows and cute outfits. And so...

Keep Reading

A Big Family Can Mean Big Feelings

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Family with many kids holding hands on beach

I’m a mother of six. Some are biological, and some are adopted. I homeschool most of them. I’m a “trauma momma” with my own mental health struggles. My husband and I together are raising children who have their own mental illnesses and special needs. Not all of them, but many of them. I battle thoughts of anxiety and OCD daily. I exercise, eat decently, take meds and supplements, yet I still have to go to battle. The new year has started slow and steady. Our younger kids who are going to public school are doing great in their classes and...

Keep Reading

You May Be a Big Brother, but You’ll Always Be My Baby

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother with young son, color photo

It seems like yesterday we were bringing you home from the hospital. Back then, we were new parents, clueless but full of love—a love that words can hardly explain. I can vividly recall holding you in my arms, rocking you in the cutest nursery, and singing sweet lullabies, just like yesterday. I can picture those times when you were teeny-tiny, doing tummy time, and how proud I was of you for lifting your head. And oh, the happiness on your face when “Baby Shark” played over and over—that song always made you smile! We made sure to capture your growth...

Keep Reading

“It Looks and Tastes Like Candy.” Mom Shares Warning about THC Gummies All Parents Need to Hear

In: Kids, Living, Teen
Hand holding bottle of THC gummies

What Aimee Larsen first thought was a stomach bug turned out to be something much more terrifying for her young son. Her 9-year-old woke up one day last week seeming “lethargic, barely able to stand or speak,” his mom shared in a Facebook post. At first, she assumed he had a virus, but something about his behavior just didn’t seem right. She called an ambulance and asked her older sons if their brother might have gotten into something, like cough syrup or another over-the-counter medicine. Their answer? “Yeah, THC gummies.” THC gummies are an edible form of cannabis that contain...

Keep Reading

Dear Daughter as You Grow into Yourself

In: Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Girl in hat and dress-up clothes, color photo

My daughter, I watched you stand in front of the mirror, turning your body left and right. Your skirt was too big and your top on backward. Your bright blue eyeshadow reached your eyebrows and bold red blush went up to your ears. You didn’t care. I watched you marvel at your body, feeling completely at ease in your skin. You turned and admired yourself with pride. You don’t see imperfections. You don’t see things you are lacking. You see goodness. You see strength. RELATED: Daughter, When You Look in the Mirror, This is What I Hope You See I’m...

Keep Reading

My Child with Special Needs Made His Own Way in His Own Time

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother holding child's hand walking across street

I want to tell you the story of a little boy who came to live with me when he was three years old. Some of you may find this story familiar in your own life. Your little boy or girl may have grown inside you and shares your DNA or maybe they came into your life much older than three. This little boy, this special child, my precious gift has special needs. Just five short years ago, he was a bit mean and angry, he said few understandable words, and there was a lot about this world he didn’t understand. Unless...

Keep Reading

Organized Sports Aren’t Everything

In: Kids, Motherhood
Young girl with Alpaca, color photo

Today I watched my little girl walk an alpaca. His name is Captain. Captain is her favorite. He’s my favorite too. I met his owner on Instagram of all places. She thought I was in college; I thought she was a middle-aged woman. Turns out, she is in high school, and I am a middle-aged woman. This random meeting led to a blessing. We call it “llama lessons.” We take llama lessons every other week. It’s an hour away on the cutest hobby farm. Our “teacher” is Flora, who boards her llamas at the alpaca farm. She wants to teach...

Keep Reading