I had an epiphany this morning. No, not so much an epiphany as an image seared into my psyche. I am Jack Bauer.
Today was our usual circus. I am home, again, with my two sick boys, and I was trying to get my five-year-old, Evie, and six-year-old, Dani, ready for church.
After an hour long struggle to get them bathed and dressed was finally victorious, Dani still didn’t have her shoes on. I said, “please get your shoes on” in my loveliest mommy like voice, but she is an oblivious buzzing butterfly.
Dani has now turned some music on and she and Evie are both flitting around the room. Dani lands and holds very still, while Evie continues flitting. I say again, more sternly, “Get your shoes on. It’s time for church.” But my butterfly has suddenly taken off again to continue her fluttery performance.
At this moment my lovely Mommy voice is not so lovely. I take hold of her arms and say, “Dani, get your shoes on, NOW-WA.” This is my sternest mommy voice used in accordance with my meanest mommy stare and it is usually effective, at least fourty percent of the time.
It is successful this time and that’s when my grand realization came “I am Jack Bauer!” Now, if you are asking, “Who is Jack Bauer?” this post may not be for you. I apologize that I have lured you to read thus far. To my lone reader that is left, (hi Mom) I will now reveal to you my so called epiphany.
I am one of those people that just hates to be late–I was NEVER late through all five years of college–crazy huh–not once! That includes trudging through the Idaho snow for a seven am french class (everyday) for a semester. You would think I had straight As with such a impeccable attendance record, but that was not the case, and is much too long of a tangent for this post.
Since I have gotten married and had kids I can’t control everything. Quite often I find myself running late. Thus comes my intensity, everyday, to BE–ON–TIME. I am racing and jumping and buckling from one place to the next, all surprisingly within ten minutes of each other. I am Jack Bauer.
My mission is a noble one. My methods are sometimes questionable and may need to be reevaluated. I have bribed and cajoled. I have told my children to go to their rooms “for the rest of your life!” I will probably even steal some of their Valentine’s candy tomorrow when they aren’t looking. All for a good cause–my sanity. I am not trying to save the world, but I am fighting every day for the safety, well being, and timeliness of my family. I am Jack Bauer.
It’s a stretch, but I think my husband is the President on 24, you know, the first one, the good one. I am working with the President. He has stopped trying to give me orders. I am too much of a renegade with my ways. But we are here to assist each other in keeping evil out of our home. I am Jack Bauer.
My children are the people I am trying to protect, and I’ll be honest, some days, they are the enemy. This morning an informant told me a small bomb went off in our basement.
|Our morning spaghetti bomb|
And, just like Jack, I didn’t have time to clean up the aftermath, there was a new bomb about to go off just minutes away–I could feel it. Now where was it. “Dax-the baby! I raced for the bathroom and just in time. Dax had his hand outstretched –just seconds away from another toilet bowl catastrophe. I rush in and swooshed him out of danger, saving the day…for now. I am Jack Bauer.
My weapons are less severe, but more vast. I carry diapers, hair brushes, snacks, water, toys, books, crayons, paper, chap stick, and wet wipes, always wet wipes.
“I am mother extraordinaire Janae, and these days may be the longest days of my life.” I feel like that sometimes, like I will always have young kids and be permanently in crazy mom phase. But the logical side of me knows I’ll look back longingly and lovingly at these years. Because, just like 24, all things must come to an end.