I'm sure yesterday wasn't the last time I reach the point of desperation.
The point where I'm so frantic.
Where I have to think on my toes.
Do whatever it takes to get the job done.
Even if it's ridiculous.
Yesterday, I reached that point.
My mind was in a thousand different places this week.
I was just getting over being terribly sick.
And Gabe was out of town for the week.
And I have an *almost* 4 month old.
Who decided to stop sleeping.
And I'm a workin' mama.
Too much to remember.
Plain and simple.
I get to school.
I'm in a fabulous mood.
Because Lyla had slept through the night for two solid nights.
And it was Friday.
So 9:30 rolls around.
My plan time.
This time is crucial for a teacher.
Especially one who is a breastfeeding/pumping mom.
I have my pumping down to a science.
I know exactly how long it takes.
To drop off my kids.
Lock the door.
Get my parts set up.
Get a little work done.
Make sure I haven't left any evidence on my desk.
Pick up my kids.
Well yesterday, I was feeling confident.
I had a meeting with my teammates at the beginning of plan time.
Giving myself exactly enough time to pump before picking up my kids.
I got back to my classroom.
And realized I forgot all my pump parts.
I frantically ran to my teammates and asked them what I should do.
They assured me they could cover for me while I ran home.
But I live at least 15 minutes away *on a good day*.
That's 30 minutes of drive time alone.
Plus a 20-minute pumping session.
Plus 10 minutes of getting set up/cleaned up/getting "dressed".
How was I going to do this?
So I sprinted to my car.
Remembered two friends gave me a car-charger at a shower.
*Thank you Lora and Ali*.
Left my car running.
Got my parts.
Busted open the car charger.
Got back in my car.
Assembled the parts.
Slipped on the "pumping bra".
And then, my friends,
I pumped the entire way back to school.
In the car.
While breaking *15 kinds of laws*.
Pulled into the school parking lot.
Sprinted back to my classroom.
I felt like SuperMom, I tell ya.
All I have to say is Lyla better not ever go through an "I hate my mom because I'm too cool" phase.
Because clearly, I have no shame in doing things that are incredibly embarrassing.
And I will use that weapon, when necessary.
The things we do for our kiddos.
I mean, look at this kid.
She's gotta eat.
After all, she's our Chunkin.