The alarm clock rings. The thought of throwing the thing through the window is enticing as you force your arm to tap the vicinity of the button. Instead of silencing the noise, some obnoxious country song starts blaring full blast. You jump with the unexpected noise and while your heart is racing, you urgently fight with the alarm clock. You lay back down once it’s silenced, your heart is still racing but you are gathering your bearings. As soon as you feel relaxed again, the dumb thing starts honking again. Figures. You must have hit the snooze button when you thought you shut it off. You silence the alarm with more success this time around and you reluctantly decide you better get up in order to get the kids to school on time.
After a half an hour of fighting with the children to get dressed, brush their teeth and ingest something that is at least slightly healthy, then another half an hour finding boots and getting coats and gloves on, you finally go outside and face the blustery wind. Instead of running towards the van, the kids take it upon themselves to trudge through the deepest part of the snow. You holler, but it doesn’t matter. The kids refuse to leave the snow bank. Soon they begin to whine because they are wet and cold.
As you enter the school building you tell the kids to stomp the snow off their feet. They don’t feel like it, so as soon as they step on the hard floor they tumble and slide and in your attempt at steadying them you start to lose your balance. The other moms, with hair all array, smile at you as they are hoping the same thing doesn’t happen to them. You get to the child’s locker and as you struggle to get them undressed and boots off, the children refuse to cooperate. So you are bending down, butt in the middle of the hallway, jeans have elastic stuff in them these days so you hope that your crack isn’t showing, and you are twisting the child’s leg trying to get the boots off and shoes on. Finally as you are getting really self-conscious about your rear, you start to get anxious with the kids.
Eventually you get the one child ready for their class, so it’s time to go to the other side of the building in attempt to get the other child ready. You are reluctant about having to do the entire process all over again, but secretly in the back of your mind you are excited because once you leave the building you have three hours of freedom, which is definitely worth the process in the morning. So you make your way down the hall slowly because the kid in front of you has no attention span, when your son says something to you. You look down at him to try and figure out what he is saying because you cannot understand him with all of the excitement from the kids in the hallways. As soon as you look down, you run over the slow kid in front of you. They fall into the kid in front of them and soon like a domino effect; kids are screaming and crying in the middle of the chaotic hallway. Soon six kindergarten teachers are staring at you like you’re a moron, when all you wanted to do was get the kid in school with no hassle.
It’s these types of days where your mouth starts to salivate for chocolate. You know that chocolate will not help you lose the weight that you have been suffering so greatly trying to lose, but you would rather have a few extra pounds than go bald from pulling your hair out strand by strand.
It is not uncommon for me to just look at the sky and laugh, saying, “Thanks God, you got me again.” My Monthly Chocolate is a book for those times. A reminder, so-to-speak, that life isn’t always so bad. That though there are problems which we are forced to deal with, embarrassing moments that are beyond our control, life is definitely a thrill ride and we will overcome those obstacles. Sit back, relax, grab a candy bar, and enjoy living through another person’s life as you are trying to escape your own.