Mom's Night Out Anyone? A giveaway.

Here's the scene:

The New Chick was up multiple times in the night. 

I wake up in a daze realizing I overslept.

Bleary eyed and half brained, I stumble into the kitchen to find my six year old has already fixed himself a bowl of cereal.

And spilled it all over the table and floor.

I determine he must have chosen a mixing bowl instead of a cereal bowl because on my honor there are 5 cups of cheerios and one gallon of milk dripping from the table to the tile.

Que The New Chick to start crying. Also the whinny insistent 4 year old wanting me to peel an orange. And the husband asking me where to find the car insurance papers.

My neurons aren't firing so I just stare at them, wishing for the coffee that isn't yet made. When the puddle of milk mush Cheerios hits my toes, something triggers and I finally start to get into gear.

Wipe the floor. Shovel food into the baby's mouth. Pour more cereal. Peel the orange. 

Go get your clothes on! Brush your teeth!

Look in the drawer under the microwave. 

Where is your back pack? Where are your shoes? 

Why haven't you brushed your teeth yet!?

Hurry, son! You're going to be late!

While helping him with his coat I notice his hair is sticking up like chicken feathers. No time for that. 

Throw out the words "I love you" while pushing him out the door. Hoping desperately he knows I really do despite the chaos of the last half hour.

Door closes.

Deep breath in. Exhale. I think he made it on time.

Put the madness behind in order to move on to the rest of the day.

Door opens. Blond chicken feathers and big blue eyes peek in.

Mom, where's my lunch?!

Stink!

In honor of Mamas who survive mornings like this, it's time for a giveaway. 

Picture via www.momsnightoutmovie.com.

How about two hours of escaping from your own life and relating to someone else who doesn't have it all together?

A break from reality and permission to laugh at the hilarity that is being a homework helping, shoe finding, poop wiping, snack fixing, check kissing, keeping it together Mama. 

To win, simply subscribe by email. 

If you already do, share this post on Facebook and comment below that you did!

The winner will be chosen Friday, November 21 at 12:00 est. 

I wish I could give every one of you an actual night out. But since I'm not Oprah, a two hour movie for one of you will have to do!

I hope you win!



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Dear Minivan Mama

I saw you today in a minivan not very different from mine. 

You were waiting for traffic to clear so you could turn left into the parking lot I was leaving. Looking straight ahead into your van, I had the perfect view of the exchange that was taking place. 

That thing where you look in the rear view mirror to yell talk sternly to the kids in the back. You were doing it. And then the tell-tell forehead into the hand. I didn't need to hear the words to imagine what was going on:

Image via newsbeatsocial

Mom, she's touching me!

Mom, he's looking out my window!

Mom, I need to make an animal habitat for school. By tomorrow!

You had the look of weary exasperation. I recognized it because I was wearing it myself. Just 5 minutes before I had been that parent who made true on the threat and pulled over because the kids were fighting. Again. Over a green mardi gras necklace.

As I watched you clutch the steering wheel and take deep breaths, I wondered if you were thinking what I was thinking. 

Am I going to live through raising these children? If so, are they? 

Why do I get so frustrated? Shouldn't I have more control and energy for this?

What I'm doing isn't working. Is it my fault they aren't better behaved, more respectful, kinder kids?

There we were. Two mama's in minivans. Struggling with this mess of a thing called motherhood. 

That half a minute glimpse into your van put a tiny smile on my face, though. I saw myself in your struggle and felt a little less alone and a little less crazy. I wanted to hug you and say "Solidarity, sister! I'm on your team." It was instant camaraderie and I longed to invite you to coffee so we could lament together. Because this thing is hard, and we need each other. 

You finally got the clear and turned left, passing right by my van. For a brief second our eyes locked and something passed between us. 

It felt a lot like understanding. And it was wonderful.