The Master of Time...and Coffee

On the TV, Jack Hartman is singing and grooving as he sings the alphabet. If you aren't familiar with this insanity, then you don't have a pre-k or Kindergartner in your life. Mine is currently dancing like mad in her a tangled mess.

Beside me on the table is an empty plate and fork with what crumbs remain from a slice of cake. If I were to be completely honest with you, I would admit that there's a second plate because my daughter didn't finish her own slice and gave it to me. But I'm admitting nothing.

This is the afternoon in the Cooper home. There's a half-crocheted afghan, dishes in the sink, dirty clothes piling in the wash room, and more than a few places on the floor that are screaming for the attention of a broom. Yet, I don't have time for any of that right now. Right now, I'm sipping coffee and digesting one *or two* slices of cake and celebrating.







And 36 years old. 

A mom of three.

A wife of one. 

Big deal. I have this handled. It doesn't matter that to arrive at this moment, I had to complete a three hour orientation that required essay questions of complete honesty *unlike the cake*. It forced me to set realistic goals and fill out an in-depth time management chart. It asked me how often I did laundry and how many hours I spent on laundry. It wanted to know how many days a week I care of my children and how many hours I spend caring for my children. How often do I cook meals a week and how many hours for I spend doing that? How often do I read? How many hours do I dedicate to sitting in a car and waiting at stoplights?All of these questions were answered with questions like how often I will study, how many hours I will spend on exams, how long I think I will dedicate to reading materials?

When it was complete, a red banner flashed across the screen letting me know that there were not enough hours in a week for what I needed to complete. I guess the red banner was supposed to alert me to some great terror or mistake....cause a tremble of fear to go through me and second guess going to school. But, bruh, that red banner was there BEFORE I enrolled in school.

I laughed out loud.

I'm a mother. A woman. The master of time manipulation and queen of doing many, many, many things at once.

I can do this. I got this. I'm a freaking witch!

Clearly the person who designed this time management chart was a man. And to him, I send my sincerest apologies that dishes, laundry, parenting, working, and being a full time student requires a red banner of alarm.

PS: My apologies for the feelings of any man reading this who feel personally attacked and undervalued. Here. Have a slice of cake. 

~Master Time Manipulator