Or Mama, as my son puts it when he is working me for something. "MAmmaaa."
I have Mommy Track'd noted on the sidebar over there as a favorite stop for me. The articles, posts and content in general often brings a trickle of levity when I'm having a "working mom moment".
I stumbled across this comic by Betsy Streeter on Mommy Track'd during the week and absolutely loved it. I have often done the "Mom-on-a-business-phone-call-dance".
Took a spill today. I am going to chalk it up to old wood floors, leather-soled shoes, my clumsy nature, and lack of sleep. I scraped both knees and bruised them up (they STILL hurt!) after slipping in the hallway on my way into work. It actually hurt quite a bit. Finally beginning not to smart anymore. But I look like an idiot; no more skirts this week.
Remarkably, I only spilled about a 1/4 of my iced coffee. Go figure. (Open glass, too.)
So I entered the office, told whoever about my incident matter-of-factly, and joked about the fact that O would most likely encourage me to wear some of his glow-in-the-dark Sponge Bob band-aids. (He didn't.) Hit the First Aid kit, and cleaned myself up. Yes, I went out to the hallway and cleaned that up, too. Can't have someone else falling on my account.
This sounds kind of pathetic, but I realized that while I got some top-line sympathy...no one really cared much that it hurt like hell and it was a really shi**y way to start my morning. (Okay, maybe one person, plus the guy who offered me a plastic bag for my ice.) I took care of myself and that was it. I'm not whining about it...just a little sad that I spend all my time at this place, away from my kids, and when it comes right down to it...well, you know what I mean.
I think my expectations are too high most of the time.