It's one of those mornings - I've woken up early, exercised, packed my lunch and eaten my healthy-ish breakfast. I've cuddled with Quinn, changed his diaper and got him started on his breakfast. I've awakened the others by bribing them with some forbidden Lucky Charms for breakfast. A minor spat over "sitting rights" on the couch has been dealt with and now I'm way behind schedule. I ask Devlin to keep his younger brother occupied by feeding him some cereal so I can race to the showers.
I'm about 10 minutes late, but I figure I can make up the time if the traffic lights are in my favour.
Just as I'm balancing the coffee mug, and keys while shrugging into a jacket, I hear "Mommy?"
Quickly I bestow kisses on my offspring, and with one foot out the door, I hear it again, "Mommy?"
I look down, and there's Aisling with her eyes wide and pleading.
"Yes?"
"Mommy, could you please ask your work if you can walk your kids to school one day like you used to last year?"
Wham! The ball of guilt that she's unknowingly just lobbed at me crushes the breath out of me.
I swallow down the surge of nausea, and plaster on a smile, "Sure sweetie. I promise I'll ask."
Aisling face lights up with a mega-watt smile. My temples begin to pound, and I rush out the door.
As I race along to work, breaking the speed limit but keeping up with the flow of traffic, tears are threatening to spill over. I've no vacation time coming up this month, but perhaps a mental health day soon could be in order? If nothing else, this morning's episode is enough to topple me into the abyss of working mom guilt. (Not that I don't find myself there on a regular basis.)
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