The sun sank low in the sky and I sat poolside, frozen in my seat, on the eve before school was to begin. My inability to move stemmed from the knowledge that the minute I left the safe confines of the fence, clutching my beloved beach chair, the fast forward button would instantly be engaged. Even my swimsuit, which started the summer clinging appropriately, was now stretched thin and bare, an unabashed reminder of my soon to be mental state. And so I sat, the sky weeping orange and yellow, children lounging, trying to cling to the last fragments of the season and my sanity.

It was ironic, to want to hold onto something I openly berated just the day before.

“That’s it,” I had roared, after breaking up yet another bickering match started by one sibling breathing too loudly followed by a swift kick delivered by another.

“Summer needs to end. School cannot start soon enough!”

Horrible to throw the age-old institution of education under the bus as a punishment for bad behavior, however the mere mention instantly brought silence and I turned smugly on my heels and left the room.

But today, I sang a different tune. My voice actually cracked as I stood to call “time to go.”
Earlier, I had perched in front of two computers, three calendars, and one wipe board, trying to navigate the transportation demands of four children, at three different schools, each with after school activities and outside interests. In addition, I knew they would have the nerve to expect to be fed daily, adding another layer to this algorithm that even a “perfect mind” could not solve. 3 am, every other Tuesday, I managed to pencil in the time for me to have a life. Yep, thirty predawn minutes would have to suffice.

I fought back a tear as we pulled out of the pool parking lot for the last time. Part of my grief was due to the fact that there are very few places a family, with four children spanning from preschool to preteen, can all go and be happily entertained. Mind you, when at the local swim club, the preteen rarely acknowledges our existence, and the younger three seek my company only to hit me up for snack bar money. But, the fact that we were all standing within a football field length of each other, enjoying an equal level of contentment, certainly registers as quality family time. Now, with only twelve hours separating us from the opening bell, I wondered if this would be the last we’d be all together before next June.

The quiet worry that filled the car was interrupted by the radio reporting the Farmer’s Almanac prediction for a snowy winter. The news stirred my deep desire for a massive blizzard to descend, mid-November, and snow everyone in for a day. An end of the first semester and post-Fall Sport season white-out, big enough to knock out the WiFi and create a full 24 hours of pajama clad board games, popcorn and cocoa. It seemed absurd that praying for a natural disaster was the only way to secure family time, but looking over the schedule for the next three months, it was clear that only an act of God could achieve just that.

And in that moment, I had to digest the fact that somehow I had given my mama power away to a hectic, over-scheduled, hamster running around the wheel, exhausting pace.

I realized this at 2 am as I began drafting a business plan for “Mama Uber,” the transportation solution for moms with kids in multiple activities. Yesterday, I gave birth to my million dollar idea, “Mama Fan,” a mother for hire who will not only attend, cheer and film your child’s game but also deliver the team snack. “Cause when you can’t be there….rent a mom who can.”

The fact that I already developed a catch phrase was a clear sign I needed help. How did I get to this place?

Make no mistake, I am not suggesting I want to gather my family, flee to the Ozark trail and live off the grid. Let’s be serious, 24/7 of sequestered family time without the buffer of kid electronics and a well-earned episode of the “Gilmore Girls” would inevitably end with me voting myself off the island.

But there has to be a balance that falls somewhere between wolfing down dinner in the car on the way to another practice and the Amish lifestyle.

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed.” Luke 10:41

Ahhh! There is an answer. Unfortunately, it’s not one I can lay out in a two minute blog, but I have started to write a Bible study that will allow us to wrestle with how we can reclaim the balance in our lives. Taking back our mama power!

It’s currently in a first draft form but I can tell you, it touches on the very important discovery that “alone time” can constitute more than a minute and a half visit to the bathroom. It’s revolutionary stuff, so stay tuned!

As I develop the B-Study, I’ll continue to share new “Devo on the Go” posts and will feature some fabulous guest writers that I know you will love.

I’d love to hear from you. How are you adjusting to the “back to school” routine?

Until next week, what do you think about my Mama Uber commercial I am developing?

Have you ever found yourself halfway across town when you receive the call that practice for your child has ended early? Traffic is backed up for miles. What’s a mama to do?

It’s Mama Uber to the rescue. Just a simple swipe of our smartphone app and instantly a mom in a minivan is deployed. Our mama drivers have received rigorous testing on how to navigate any drop-off and pick-up line in your community without irritating mothers in front or behind. Our vehicles are intentionally filled with crumbs and empty snack wrappers, to give your child that “at home feel.” Mom drivers are also trained in the skilled art of asking questions requiring only one syllable answers so that your child will only have to respond in their normal yes/no grunts and mumbles.

Mama Uber – transportation with a touch of mama love.