Today I experienced an epiphany right in the middle of the inflatables play gym.  If I had not had this revelatory moment, I would right now be  mired in shame over my maternal shortcomings.  But, you see, when you are afforded macro-level glimpses into the hearts of other mothers, you realize there are overriding themes–and shared setbacks–to this whole mothering journey.

Here’s what happened:  The local inflatables play place sent out a mass email open-playtime invitation this morning–to every mom whose kid had ever attended a birthday party at the place.  We high-tailed it on over there with my neighbor’s passel of kids.

Loudoun County (where I live) has incorporated a system of emails, texts, and phone calls to alert parents to school closings.  The following message came through at exactly 2:10 p.m.today, while we were in the midst of play-time:

“Loudoun County Public Schools will be closed from Wednesday, February 10th, through Friday, February 12th.”

Before I could even process this dire communication, I looked up to see where the 5-year-old in my charge had gotten to.  And, as I surveyed the room, I saw something interesting.  I observed about 20 mothers all checking their iPhones and Blackberries at that very moment.  And I saw their unguarded expressions.  The momentarily slack jaws, the desperate eyes, the hunched-over, just-got-kicked-in-the-gut posture, the mouthed curses.  Wow.

In the next minute, I saw the teenaged gym attendants checking their phones–and I heard the whoops of pure elation.

Then, as the message spread around the gym to the kids themselves, I heard victory cries, saw fists raised in the air in gestures of triumph.

In those minutes, I was reminded of something I’ve known since I home-schooled my older kids 10 years ago.  When babies and toddlers are home, a mom has a big, physically demanding job.  But when school-aged children are home during the day, a mom has a job that is both physically demanding and emotionally challenging.  Moreover, when the routine gets upset and there is no structure to fall back on, a mom has a job that is…unimaginably taxing.

Keep the meals coming, make sure the fridge is fully stocked, clean up the snow (and chemical deposits) that keep getting tracked in, keep the snow pants laundered, be proactive enough about activities to keep everyone from getting stir-crazy.  Keep bedtimes from getting totally out of whack, or else the grumpies will invade the house.  Keep the door open to the neighbor’s hungry, hyper, salt-tracking kids, because you might just really need their doors to be open to your kids too.

And, perhaps most significantly, say goodbye to the idea of getting any  of your own work done–or your own goals accomplished for that week.  And then be ready to tell everyone it’s all quite okay–because you love your kids so very much.

Which, of course, you do.  But maybe we love them just a little more sweetly and happily when we can count on the structure (and freedom) of their school schedule?  At least… that’s what the expressions on those attentive play-gym-moms’ faces told me.