MAMACADABRA

I don’t FEEL magic.  That’s for damn sure.

When I was at Target last night at 8pm, struggling to recall why I bolted out of the house to get there in the first place, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.  There I was, in the same clothes I’d put on for work 15 hours ago, looking like I was half-dead.  There were other moms half-asleep and shuffling through the aisles like me.  Picking up dry erase markers because we’d accidentally bought wet erase markers.  Buying new folders because, apparently, some of them only hold-up for a week.  Desperate to find snacks that have not been processed in a facility that is within 100 miles of any type of nut.

I look like I’ve been on a four-day bender.  The polish on my nails is chipped and dull, my eyes are puffy, and my hair is limp.  I’ve fallen victim to yet another addiction.  No not Diet Coke…not even coffee…pumpkin chai tea lattes (there are no words).  I find myself mindlessly driving towards Caribou or Starbuck’s in the morning…needing the warmth and the caffeine to even attempt my morning commute.  And when the little girls are tucked into their beds at 8pm I find myself longing to go to bed myself.  Feeling regret for all of the things that, once again, I haven’t had the time to accomplish.  And praying there is something, anything, on TV that is mindless enough to keep me content.

Thank you Kardashians.  Seriously.

And yet, each day the little girls head off to school with their folders full of complete and checked homework, notes to their teachers, and paperwork signed-off.  They open their lunches to find healthful and yummy meals and a note from me professing my love, pride, and adoration.  I whisk them off the bus and either bring them straight home to start homework or off to gymnastics.  I have sleepovers coordinated a month from now, play date schedules plotted through November, basketball registration submitted, Thanksgiving plans in the works, and I was just thinking I need to start working on Christmas.  Despite my complete and utter exhaustion, my looking like a hooker, my desperate need for pumpkin chai tea lattes, and my feeling so disorganized it makes my head spin (and hurt), I am firing on (almost) all cylinders.  And…from what I can tell…I might actually be making magic after all (gasp!).

Tonight we celebrated my husband’s birthday.  AND we had gymnastics.  AND homework.  And you know what?  We did all that, and went out for ice cream, and the little girls were in bed early…chewing vitamins as they nested in their beds.  My point is this…maybe, at least in this first month of school, my house doesn’t need to look like a model home.  Maybe I don’t need to be crafty or organized like Martha Stewart.  Maybe I don’t need to look like a super model…cough…cough.  Maybe my car doesn’t need to be spotless.  Maybe my bed doesn’t need to be made.  Maybe I don’t need to go to the gym or run every single day.

What if maybe, just maybe, in the first month of school all that really matters is that my little girls feel well taken care of.  Safe.  Secure.  Happy.  Loved.  And while I would feel better if all of the above things were true…especially my looking like a super model…ahem…all that really matters in September is that the little girls feel like they are getting what they need from me.  And maybe THAT is magic in and of itself.

TODAY:  What if what I’m doing is not only good enough, but magical, as we get back in the swing of school?