Mayday! Mayday! Mom Down!

Sometimes I wish, secretly hope for and yes, beg for a Command Center of sorts that would monitor my home (only for purposes of good and well-being) from a remote location. They would be able to hear and see what is going on and see what a nightmare lunch time can be. Yeah, it's not always that cute when your child smears sour cream on EVERYTHING. Life with kids is not always one cute photo op after another.

Just when it looks like Mom is about to lose it a little alarm would go off in my house sending out a signal of distress to the Command Center. The Command Center would be on high alert on the days I'm alone for long hours with a million things to do. Like when my husband has decided to change plans or just not call to say he isn't bringing people by our house for a visit, people that I just spent the morning cleaning the house for. Maybe this Command Center could monitor my stress levels and BP. They could measure the octaves of my voice as it reaches levels it shouldn't when the second sandwich has now been thrown on the floor.

I can just see it now-

"Mayday! Mayday! The Mom is going down! I repeat the Mom is going down!"

"I see her! Roger that! She is at maximum stress levels. She is about to blow! We've got to get in there fast before she completely loses it and flips out on the whole house. Her shoulders are next to her ears! Quick! Her fists are clenched! I don't think she even knows about the dog peeing on the carpet downstairs!! This is a dire situation team, we've got to act fast! Go! Go! Go!"

Then there would be a polite knock at the door and an efficient team of helpers would quietly enter the house.

"Ma'am, we're here. It's OK. Just sit down on that love seat over there and we'll handle everything."

They would clean up the dog pee. In fact, they might even steam clean the whole den. The food and sour cream sandwich mess would be a distant memory as someone massaged my shoulders back into their rightful place and I was given a bouquet of fresh flowers for my dining room table to admire and all the sheets were changed in the bedrooms. A quick vacuum job and scrub of the toilets would be added as someone rubbed my feet and made me a nice mug of hot chocolate. After the team leaves I notice all the laundry is folded and put away. And it is clean! Dinner is prepped and ready to go.

"Looks like order has been restored to this house team! The mother's BP is down, her heart rate has decreased and she is actually smiling. It's time to pack it up and move it out."

As the team quietly dissipates and heads back to the Command Center, I would realize I feel normal again for the first time in days. Order has indeed been restored.

Then I realize I've burned the grilled cheese I'm making, the third sandwich of the day, and the dog and kid are wrestling over kibble that has spilled onto the floor and there are now blocks in the toilet. My day dream is effectively over.