Yesterday morning was hairy and rushed.

I was scheduled to be at the school with the girls to attend a field trip with Hanna’s grade four class to the museum which meant adding a drop off for Chloe at the babysitter’s house and me dragging a comb through my hair to our usual morning routine.

I also had to make a third lunch—one for myself. I was hoping for a grown-up lunch with sophisticated foods, the opposite of summer sausage on white bread with NOTHING else (the only main course Hanna will take to school and actually eat) and summer sausage on white bread with cheddar cheese (the only main course Ellie will take to school and actually eat).

Between the additional grooming, the extra lunch bag (an RBC royal blue bag we must have found on the street because neither of us have ever worked for a bank, nor have we run or walked in a fundraiser where one might be given one of these) and timing Chloe’s drop off all before the school bell rang, I was, what’s the word I’m looking for? Oh right, an utter and complete bitch to the girls while we were getting ready.

I barked at Hanna for not making her bed (and maybe even mine). I wasn’t going to have time to make it after she left as I was busy shaping my eyebrow trying to make it look like I had two.

I paused to envision a scenario where I would be required to remove my shoes during the field trip. Socks with holes it is!

I politely nudged growled at Ellie to hurry up and eat her breakfast so she would have time to brush her teeth, make her bed and comb her hair. Then I growled some more when Chloe refused to wear any of the three options of underwear I served her up and scrambled to re-brush her teeth after she flashed me a smile suggesting her first attempt had been made by spreading smooth peanut butter on her toothbrush.

In a moment where the stress was palpable, Ellie managed to make eye contact with me and said, “Mommy, can I tell you something?”

Me: Sure Ellie, but quickly please.

Ellie: You’re nicer than other Moms.

Wow.

Ellie: Do you remember that really mean Mom at the airport in Florida?

How could I forget? I don’t think I will ever forget the moment I watched a woman turn to her two amazing children, swear at them, belittle and degrade them, humiliating them in front of an audience of thousands.

I stopped my grumbling and took a deep breath while I hugged Ellie and thanked her for saying something so sweet during a stressful moment I had brought on myself and created in my own head.

Timing is everything.