Two Down, One To Go

Today I had a list. I had a plan. I was going to wake up early, have my usual two cups of coffee, eat breakfast and go to Weirdmart for dinner and paint supplies. Then I planned to come home and throw a roast in the crockpot, and go for a run. Later, I planned to paint a few walls.

I poured my first cup of coffee and…

Crisis One.

I notice Nic, my seventeen year old, wasn’t out of bed. He was supposed to get up early, make some phone calls and get some (scholarship) community service hours lined up; either with his brother (helping his grandfather by building a deck), or with his grandmother. I had coordinated some hours at a local senior daycare, but Nic found it too emotionally draining, so I agreed to let him make other arrangements FIRST THING THIS MORNING; I did not agree to let him sleep in. And he was snoring. SAWING-FREAKING-LOGS snoring. So I roused him. And he woke up with a full-on-pissy-know-it-all-attitude.

Mom, I don’t need a lot of hours. You are wrong, I don’t need a hundred hours. I only need seventy-five. I want to relax today. Mom, you are wrong, the deadline isn’t this week, it’s actually the end of the school year. Mom, I’ll get the hours. Don’t worry Mom. Mom, seriously, you’re over-reacting.

And that was the theme of the next hour and a half. Nic was on the school website trying to support his argument, and I was on the phone with the high school, confirming what I already knew. Nothing like a know-it-all teen to make you doubt yourself. It was Mom vs. Nic: Battle of the Wills, until I used my super power: I-am-the-boss-of-you.

And then Mr. Know It All packed up his attitude, promptly got dressed and went to help his brother build a deck.

Drained from the battle with Nic, I still wasn’t dressed. I was still wandering the house aimlessly in my pajamas, clutching an empty coffee cup with my hair resembling a small animal retreat, and searching for my glasses… When seconds later, as if on cue, my oldest son called. I grabbed my phone on the way to the Keurig, and filled up my cup.

“Hello?”

Mom do you have a minute, I need to talk..?

Crisis Two.

Do Y’all remember being twenty-six? Well, in case you don’t, let me just refresh your memory. Everything is life or death, and magnified fifty-eleven times. Everything is always no-kidding-serious. Everything is total pressure. Now, freeze that image, and double it and you have my son. My oldest son is all drama-mama. I spent the better part of an hour talking him off his stressed-overtired-world-is-shattered-ledge.

After we hung up, I waited. Nothing. The house was quiet. The dogs were napping. Where were my glasses? My list?

And then I gave up. Screw it. I ripped up my imaginary list. We’ll order out for dinner tonight, and I’ll paint another day.

I made a fourth cup of coffee, turned on Apple TV and started the fifth season of Fringe (which sucks by the way). I made breakfast and half-watched an episode while I waited for my middle son to call. I felt for sure he would…

I mean really Universe, I gave in. My plans are f&%ked. I’m in mom-mode today. I’m bursting with AWESOME MOM advice. The cape is out. I’m jacked on caffeine. Bring. It. On.