For weeks, I’ve been secretly patting myself on the back. Keeping all the balls in the air! Work – good! Kiddo and hubby – good! House… clean enough! No one got the flu this year! I’m kinda/sorta/sometimes going to bed at a decent hour!

Last week, I spent several days in New York for work. I represented my team at an industry event, I took my first Uber, I had big, important, high-expectation meetings with clients, and I even navigated the streets of Manhattan by myself… in the middle of the night… in my pajamas… after discovering I lost my entire makeup bag that day but still needed to be spiffed and dressed and ready for clients by 7am the next morning. (Before you venture into downtown for the nearest Rite Aid – call me. I have a few pointers.)

All while calling home every day to hear about school and baseball and rehearsal for the upcoming music program. Super Mom, I tell ya.

I got home Thursday night and – in complete denial of complete exhaustion – planned to spend most of Friday at the Bentonville Film Festival. As I signaled to get off the interstate in Bentonville that morning, my phone rang.

“Hi, this is Washington Elementary.”

Dammit.

Phone calls from school are Super Mom’s kryptonite.

“Colt had a collision with another kid during P.E. today. He’s got a cut on his head, and it looks ok… But do you wanna…”

Before the woman on the other end could even finish, I had exited and turned back onto the interstate – headed for Fayetteville. By the time I could get there, Jeff already had him at home and cleaned up a little.

A three-kid pileup during a heated game of tag. Colt’s head caught another kid’s teeth and to the doctor we went.

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He proudly gave the doctor the play-by-play while the nurse cleaned his head (much less gently and much more thoroughly than his Mama would have), and we got out of there WITHOUT a staple in the head and WITH a certificate of bravery good for free lunch at Chick-fil-A.

No signs of concussion, and he was cleared to take his cleaned up, Neosporined head back to school with a promise to take it easy. As we pulled up to the school, he looked concerned and I thought he might be nervous about heading back to class for the day.

“Mommy, does blood wash out? Because I was wearing my favorite green shirt today.”

Super Mom’s work is never done.

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