And somehow everyone still ask, “Where are my shoes!”
There should be a special award for making it to 8:00 a.m.
Not for getting everyone out the door on time.
Not for packing the perfect lunch.
Not for remembering spirit week, library day, picture day, snack day, or whatever mysterious themed day the school calendar quietly dropped into your life.
Just for making it to 8:00 a.m.
Because by then, you’ve already lived an entire day.
You wake up.
You let your cute goldendoodle out.
You start the coffee.
You forget you started the coffee.
You find the permission slip that apparently needed to be signed last week.
You hear, “Mom?”
Then another, “Mom?”
Then a third, “MOM!” from someone standing six feet away.
You pour the coffee.
You make breakfast.
Someone wanted blueberry Eggo’s.
You made blueberry Eggo’s.
They don’t want blueberry Eggo’s anymore.
Excellent.
You locate the missing water bottle, a library book, one sneaker, and a sweatshirt that was somehow “literally right here” five minutes ago.
You remind someone to brush their teeth.
Then you ask whether the toothbrush actually touched their teeth or simply enjoyed a lovely morning sightseeing around the bathroom.
You pour cereal.
Wrong bowl.
Apparently the blue bowl matters today.
A lot.
You refill the cute goldendoodle’s water.
You sign the paper.
You put the paper somewhere safe.
You immediately forgot where “somewhere safe” is.
You reheat your coffee.
You remind someone to put on socks.
You find the socks.
You answer a question abut dinosaurs.
You answer a question about whether Friday is tomorrow.
You answer a question about why adults have to work.
You silently wonder the same thing.
You check the clock.
HOW IS IT ALREADY 7:42?
Now everyone is moving at the speed of a sleepy turtle.
Except you.
You are suddenly managing a small airport.
“Shoes.”
“Backpack.”
“Water bottle.”
“Lunch,”
“Coat.”
“Please stop poking your brother.”
“No, you cannot bring seventeen rocks to school.”
“Yes, you need pants.”
You take one sip of coffee.
Cold.
Naturally.
Then comes the big one.
“Mom, where are my shoes?”
And there they are.
By the door.
Where shoes have lived since approximately the beginning of time.
Somehow, you get everyone out.
The door closes.
Silence.
You look around the kitchen.
There’s half a blueberry Eggo on the counter.
One sock under the table.
A spoon in the location no spoon should ever be.
And your coffee.
Still sitting there.
Cold again.
Here’s the part moms don’t hear enough.
That morning wasn’t “just getting ready.”
You were planning, remembering, organizing, anticipating, problem-solving, regulating emotions, answering questions, finding lost things, managing time, changing plans, and keeping several tiny humans moving in roughly the same direction.
That’s a lot.
So if your morning wasn’t calm and color-coded and accompanied by cheerful acoustic music like some Instagram reel…
Congratulations.
You had a normal morning.
Maybe tomorrow you’ll drink your coffee while it’s hot.
Probably not.
But we can dream.
Loretta Holmes, Educational Therapist + Play Therapy Coach is the founder of Bella Coaching where she helps parents support tiny humans through big feelings, build confidence, and make everyday parenting feel a little less overwhelming. She believes the best tools are practical, playful, and actually usable in real life, preferably with coffee nearby.