I think I’m what some would describe as one of those “Hot Mess” Moms.
Case in point:
I’m always late. To my credit, sometimes my kids need to poop right as we are leaving the house, and that’s not really my fault. Still, we are fifteen minutes late, and people notice. We have been late so often, that when we are early, my five-year old complains of boredom. It is more fun to show up in the middle of the action. Have I created a monster? Maybe, maybe not.
I may have re-gifted a present back to the person who gave it to me. (I wanted to throw something else in a box before I sent it off, so I let my kids choose and, well, the rest is history.)
My kids are demolishing their Halloween candy as I type, and I’m letting them, so I can type. Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it later when they are bouncing around the house.
I feel like I always need to go to the grocery store -because I do. Where did all the food go? 
My daughter’s dance clothes are not always clean, and sometimes we cannot find items, so she ends up in dance sans tights, or I wash stuff very last minute.
I do not attempt to pick up toys or vacuum until after dinner, so if anyone stops by before that, it appears that my house is under construction.
I cannot meal plan to save my life.
I do not answer the door for mailmen. The dogs mob our front door, and trying to maneuver them as they bark, open my door, put on a bra, and make eye contact with another adult is just too hard. I hide until they leave.
I never wear a bra unless I am going out of my house or someone is visiting us.
Running out of coffee creamer is a level 10 emergency.
An Actual Hot Mess:
My Halloween started by trying to take my two kids to a Mommy and Me exercise class. It was to be my first one and a solid attempt at exercising with my 5 and 2-year-old daughters. I was determined. I ignored my 2-year old’s lamentations about her tummy. I figured she just needed to eat a bit of breakfast, and she would feel better. So, I loaded snacks, a two-seater stroller, water, a yoga mat, kids and myself into the car. We began driving to the park where the class was to be held. It started to rain, just a little, but I was intent. I kept driving. We arrived at the park, I unloaded the stroller and my eldest. Upon reaching my 2-year-old in her car seat, I saw that he was teary eyed. I assumed she was upset at being the second kid out of the car. Then, she refused to sit in the stroller, insisting that I hold her. My friend showed up in her mini-van right behind us, and my 2-year-old vomited all over me. Instant karma.
Looking back to that moment, I’ve realized I’m not a “hot mess” – none of us are. We are all parenting the best we can. If we are trying, it counts.
If I had listened to my daughter that day, instead of pushing us out of the door, she would have gotten to vomit {on me} in the comfort of our home.
It’s okay to slow down a bit. Show your kids that you are trying.
“Hot Mess” Moms may give their kids a great gift; it’s a gift of messiness. It’s a gift of finding the perfection in imperfection. And, that’s a pretty wonderful gift.
p.s. I love this! Keep in mind, it has some bleeped profanity!
