“Bedtime!” I announced with a feigned attempt to hide my glee.“But mom! What about dinner?”Seriously. Why do they insist on eating three times a day? And how, after 21 years of parenting, do I still occasionally forget to feed them?It’s down to me and the two little ones in the house, so when hubby is out of town, we tend to get off schedule. I had them put their jammies on while I hurriedly scrambled eggs and toasted our two remaining slices of bread. Grocery store! That was the other thing I meant to do today.I’d like to say the above scenario was because I had surgery recently, and I’m still recuperating. But the truth is, these things happen even when I’m 100 percent healthy. I won’t be winning any mother of the year awards anytime soon. Probably never.I apologized to the kids for forgetting to feed them. “That’s okay,” my 7-year-old encouraged, “It’s kind of convenient to lump dinner prayers and bedtime prayers together!”Great. I am sure God was thrilled that I was able to cut my children’s daily prayer time down.
There are times when I think I am an amazing mother. And other times, well, I can’t even remember the kids’ names, let alone whether or not I fed them.A lot of it has to do with procrastination. I don’t always get things done until I am feeling some sort of pressure to do so. For example, when my now 17-year-old was five, she decided it was high time she had a baby memory book like her older siblings. I don’t know why. It’s not like I ever wrote anything in their books, but she got it into her head that I should record all of her major milestones.