Mom FAIL!!

Every fall when school starts again I get a feeling of  nostalgia, a twinge of desire to get back into the classroom.  Then I convince myself that my kids need me more at home. We recently went to a party with a bunch of kids who are being raised by nannies or swapped from babysitter to babysitter while their parent's pursue their careers. Guess what, MY KIDS WERE THE WORST behaved of everyone in attendance. Obviously, not-so-super nanny does a heckuva better job than me. Then I see Harley playing with her puppy and I convince myself that I need to be home with my kids.  But, the last 24 hours I have be reevaluating once again.  There have been a few incidents at our house that cause me to question my fitness as a mother.  I am not even talking about Nash's foul mouth on the soccer field or the fact that while trying to find images of school buses online the boys came across some scantily clad women posing rather provocatively on top of a school bus.  I could just hear them giggling and Nash saying, "Print it Atley!"  When they got busted Nash's reply, "Come on Mom!  It is not like we are looking at Naked Women.  They are in their swimming suits."  Oh, great I feel so much better about your life on the World Wide Web.

Here comes the big stuff. Yesterday, Atley came off the school bus with a scowl on his face.  One look at me and he says, "How could you let me wear these pants to school?"  I looked down at his pants and thought they were rather cute. Baggy, yes, but he is a skinny kid, baggy is inevitable.  I reply with, "What's wrong with your pants?"  He says, "They fall off.  In fact, they fell off in the middle of music class all the way to my ankles and now everyone calls me underpants man!"  Upon further examination of the pants the snap button was broken. I was aware of this problem and was sure that I  had thrown the pants out, but apparently I was wrong.  As if sending your child to school with pants that don't button is not example enough of terrible mothering.  My reaction further proves my rottenness.  When Atley said they now call him UNDERPANTS MAN, my first thought was, "Oh, thank goodness he had on underwear."  He has a bad habit of going commando.  Then, I started to giggle.  UNDERPANTS MAN, I mean, it's funny, right?  No, it isn't, not when you are seven and it should never be funny to your own mother.

Fast forward 16 hours.  We are running late for school.  I end up throwing a sweatshirt over the top of my pajamas.  Mind you, these are silky bright green pajamas.  There is no time to walk to the bus so I pile the kids into the van.  I did check Atley's pants. I even made him jump around a little to ensure that they weren't going to fall off during the day.  Nash is in his PJ's. Harley is in her PJ's still smelling like a night's worth of pee.  I strapped her in her carseat, at least I think I strapped her in her car seat. I definitely hooked the top harness across her chest.  We sped to the bus stop and of course we sat their waiting for a bus that was at least 20 minutes late.  Finally, the bus arrives. I push a button to slide Harley's door open and let Atley out. At this moment my unaffectionate child decides to shower me with goodbye kisses.  I was so excited by the attention that I failed to notice my 17 month old slide out of her crappily harnessed carseat, climb out of the open door and rush towards the kids waiting at the bus stop.  Suddenly, Nash yells, "Look, mom! Harley wants to go to school."  WHAT?  Prepare to be alarmed.  I thought, "Oh no! I can't go get her I am in my silky pajamas. All the parents will see me and they will call me PAJAMA LADY!"  So, I yelled at Atley to go retrieve his sister. He complied and then got on the bus turning towards me ever so slightly to give me yet another scowl as if to say, "Mom, please hire a nanny and get a real job, because you pretty much suck at this one."