The Crazy Lady & The Magnolia Tree

7:16. I saw the clock through my just-woken-up blurry vision. Normally this would be a pleasant surprise – both kids still asleep past 7:00. But on this morning the joy of getting to sleep in was immediately flushed away by the sheer panic that caused me to jump out of bed and run into my daughter’s room. Sleeping late today was just not how we needed to start this day. It’s a school day, and not just any school day. It’s my daughter’s end of year performance and class party day. I mentally changed my original plan of squeezing in a gym workout after dropping her off, but before having to be back for her performance, and simply rushed into survival mode. Get me dressed. Get both kids dressed – my daughter in a nice dress for her performance – not always an easy task with my strong-willed preschooler. Sure enough, she comes to me and says, “I don’t have to wear one of those new dresses with a horse on it that daddy bought me that I don’t like, do I?” Dear Lord child…they are beautiful Ralph Lauren Polo dresses. And yes, she was going to wear the pink dress “with the horse on it.”

Microwave pre-cooked sausage (thank you Jimmy Dean!) for my 11 month old to gum to death as a throw together my Weight Watchers 3 point egg white concotion. A quick bag of Litle Debbie blueberry muffins will have to suffice for my daughter’s breakfast as she watches Nick Jr. Strap my son into the carseat to contain him, shoving a bottle in his mouth, and begin to pack the diaper bag. All is well until I realize that I can’t find his bear lovey. We have THREE that are all exactly alike, but they ALL have disappeared. I glance at the clock. 8:28. School starts at 8:30. And it’s 15 minutes away. I’m turning over every pillow and blanket in my bear search when my daughter brings me her sandals, demanding help. I pause the bear hunt and sit down to buckle her pink sandals. I see her red Cars band-aid on her shin and smile as I remember her telling my mom “it’s a car race” when asked what happened on her leg yesterday. Ha! But, the ugly thing must come off before the performance today. So, I simply rip it off. I KNOW, I KNOW. Rule #1 of taking off kids’ band-aids is doing the 3-2-1 countdown. So SUE ME. I didn’t have time for a NASA-style countdown for this one. Well, low and behold, this un-warned band-aid removal started a full-blown screaming tantrum. I simply rolled my eyes and walked off. I still had a bear to find. My son has finished his bottle and is now crying because he wants – what – THE BEAR. My daughter is screaming and mourning the loss of her band-aid, and I’m now to the point of moving beds away from the walls looking for this lovey. I don’t know why, but I called my mom. I’m 30 years old and I still call her when I’m feeling crazy – which happens more than I’d like to admit. I carry the phone around with me, looking for the bear and recounting the morning’s events to her and I come across the bear – lying in the middle of the floor. I’m pissed. At what, I’m not sure. But I just feel pissed. This morning has been crazy and it’s only – gasp – 8:40. Dammit. They lock the school doors at 8:45. I’ve never been locked out. Why not try it out during the last week of school??

Sure enough, the doors were locked and I had to wait for the special button-pushing style entry. Luckily my daughter ran right into her teacher’s arms and I got back into my car without any additional drama. I looked in the mirror at my face with no make-up and take a deep breath. My moment of peace quickly interrupted by me remembering that I left the apples for the class party in the bottom drawer of my refrigerator! Dammit. I am flustered as I make the drive back home. I find myself wondering how working mothers do this. It’s not like they have less responsibilty at home. It’s simply compounded by their responsibility at work. I can’t imagine. I know my house looks like a tornado blew through. I know my son is being pacified by veggie straws in the back seat. And I know this day has just begun. Argh. I hate days like this.

I pull into my driveway on my apple mission and I see a white mound in the middle of my driveway. My annoyance level is very high and I am pissed that there’s trash on my driveway that I now have to go pick up. Annoyed. I get out of my car and walk over to the white mound and I see that it’s not trash at all. It’s a beautiful magnolia flower that has fallen out of the huge magnolia tree in our front yard. A wave of peace and calm floods over me. There is something about a magnolia tree that is tranquil. It’s a reminder of my childhood magnolia tree that I climbed with my brother. It’s a reminder that I live in the South where tea is sweet, my neighors are helpful, and I can hear the birds chirpping out my window. It’s a reminder of all the hours I’ve spent swinging under this tree with my babies. This white flower has turned my day around in an instant with its distinct scent and its supple beauty. There is no other flower I love more than a magnolia flower from a gigantic magnolia tree in the South. As I head inside for the apples, I smile and realize that this day can be salvaged. No fight over Polo dresses or lost lovey or band-aid drama needs to ruin any day. I live in a beautiful place with beautiful children and sweet tea. Seriously, does it get any better than this?

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