I recently had an “I’m ready for a glass of wine at 9 a.m.” kind of morning. It started by my waking up to the whistle of the crossing guard outside my bedroom window. My foggy brain registered the bad news – yikes, my alarm never went off! I jumped out of bed and into the nearest set of clothes that were conveniently hanging from, where else – the treadmill. Another glance at the clock confirmed that I had only 20 minutes to get my kids up, dressed, fed and sitting with their hands crossed nicely in front of them at their school desks.
I dashed downstairs and threw two Pop Tarts in the toaster. I took out the milk for my daughter and juice for my lactose-intolerant son. Shoot… milk might be bad. I spent three minutes doing the nose to carton test trying to determine just how bad it really was. I eventually caved and gave into the pressure of the suggested expiration date and down the sink it went. Of course there was not enough juice for them both. Water … she would have water.
With my makeshift breakfast now on the table I turned my attention to lunchboxes. Thankfully I had prepped them the night before and only had to warm up the leftover spaghetti. I stuck the container in the microwave and dashed upstairs to see how the troops were. Halfway through my cheerleading chant, which went something like, “Brush Your Teeth, Comb Your Hair, and Put Your Socks On” I heard a popping noise and smelled something burning. Shoot… the leftovers were in an aluminum container! When I opened the microwave door, the smoke from the smoldering aluminum caused the fire alarm to go off, which made both kids frantic and down the stairs they rushed, without brushing their teeth, combing their hair, or putting their socks on.
I took a few yoga breaths, put on a huge fake smile and encouraged the children to calm down and to please hurry up and eat. That is when my son suddenly felt the need to point out just how bad a job I was doing.
“Let’s face it mom, you are not doing so great. The house smells, you’re stressed and I had no fresh towels this morning!” he said.
I snapped! For the first time in my life I could truly understand why some animals eat their young. I love my children, but at that moment all I wanted to do was lock myself in my bedroom and not come out until they were ready to go to college. I closed my eyes and tried to compose myself and as I did I had this vision of MOMMY JAIL!
Imagine your very own space. A Freedom Cell, where you could actually finish a cup of coffee, a phone conversation, a THOUGHT … without being interrupted. You would receive three meals a day, which you would not have to cook, or even better – CLEAN UP! Sure you would be locked up, but that would mean your kids would be locked out!
“Earth to Mom… we are going to be late for school!” bellowed my son. Faster than a speeding bullet, I threw a granola bar and apple into each of their lunchboxes and shoved them out the door and into the car.
While sitting in the drop off lane my mind kept circling back to my delicious Mommy Jail fantasy. The car behind me honked for me to move up. The kids unbuckled and were about to get out when my daughter paused. She gently planted a sticky strawberry PopTart kiss on my cheek and said, “Hope you have a better day Mommy.” As I watch them walk into school, it dawned on me … I’m already doing time for my crime. And you know what? The inmates are pretty darn cute!
Sharon is a mom and freelance writer. Read her blog at