I don’t know about in your home but in ours⭐ 12 PM is — The Hour Moms Want to Cry but Don’t Have Time. I would like to invite you into my home at 🎪 12 PM and remember — This Is My Circus and These Are My Monkeys. Or are they?
Noon hits and suddenly my whole house decides to audition for a reality show I did NOT sign up for. Did you?
I’m over 60. I’m tired. I’ve lost my water bottle and my Fitbit more times than I can count. My blind brother is in the kitchen doing dishes and peeling potatoes like the champ he is — and then he’s right back to being a professional couch potato. The dogs need to be walked, but the second I say “Let’s go,” everyone disappears like I yelled FIRE.
Davids at work. C is asleep like he’s been up for three days straight. The trash is overflowing. The dishes are overflowing. And apparently, I’m the only one who can see any of it. Or can you see it?
Meanwhile, the ribs with Woody’s Marinade are in the oven, the potatoes are boiling on the stove, and I’m one wrong move away from hitting something — or someone — with a wooden spoon.
And let’s not forget: We don’t homeschool anymore. Charlie has graduated. But here I am still trying to help homeschool moms with Monday prep while my own Saturday looks like a tornado married a circus and had twins.
Everyone wants something different:
- He wants to do this
- He wants to do that
- The dogs want out
- The house wants cleaned
- My brain wants a nap
- And my heart wants five minutes of silence
But moms don’t get silence at noon. We get chaos. We get noise. We get “Mom, look!” We get “Mom, help!” We get “Mom, where’s my…?” We get “Mom, can you…?”
And we survive it anyway.
Because this is my circus. These are my monkeys. And somehow — even with ribs in the oven, potatoes on the stove, dogs barking, trash overflowing, and everyone disappearing when it’s time to help — I keep going.
Not because it’s easy. Not because I’m strong. But because I’m a mom. And moms don’t quit at noon. We just breathe, mutter a prayer, and keep the circus moving.
🎪💛 Thank you,
Glenda, Charlie and David Cates
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🎪 12 PM — This Is My Circus and These Are My Monkeys
I’m over 60, tired, and have lost my water bottle and Fitbit more times than I can count. My blind brother is doing dishes and peeling potatoes like a champ, then goes right back to being a professional couch potato. The dogs need walking, but the second I say “Let’s go,” everyone disappears.
Davids at work. C is asleep. The trash is overflowing. The dishes are overflowing. And apparently, I’m the only one who can see any of it.
Ribs with Woody’s Marinade are in the oven. Potatoes are on the stove. And I’m one wrong move away from hitting something with a wooden spoon.
We don’t homeschool anymore — Charlie graduated — but here I am still helping homeschool moms prep for Monday while my own Saturday looks like a tornado married a circus.
Everyone wants something different. No one wants to help. And moms don’t get to fall apart at noon.
This is my circus. These are my monkeys. And somehow… I keep going. 💛
Thank you,
Glenda, Charlie and David Cates
