As a mother, I am an authority figure. As an authority figure, I deserve to flash around an official looking badge.

It is especially important to have credentials as an authority when personal actions do not reflect the authority. Namely, I need something to show I really do have it together when I make mistakes.

Let’s just take today as an example. It was field day at Sammy’s preschool. Due to having to wrangle the driving schedule for Ryley’s kindergarten pick-up, I was unable to attend (which made me feel bad). The consolation was that after picking up Ryley the four boys and I would attend the traditional post-field-day barbeque, which we were looking forward to.

We pulled up to the preschool and I noticed something odd. Parents were strapping their kids into their carseats. The catering guy was loading his truck. I shook off the feeling of doom as I told Ryley to grab the picnic blanket. I unloaded the little guys and we walked into the yard only to see the tables being cleared and people scattering. A mom offered leftover fruit skewers to me. I said “sure” like that was what I came for (where’s my crispy hot dog and greasy chips??). I went to the classroom and read the field day schedule of events—lunch started 45 minutes earlier than last year.

I learned I cannot depend on continuity of human events—only God has the market on continuity. I learned to read the dang schedule of events. I learned how foolish it feels to fold up an elaborate zippered picnic blanket with a fruit skewer dangling out of your mouth.

With no verbal excuses to offer, I fashioned a couple of badges (with the help of this place) to tell people where I am coming from. In case it happens again. Not that it will.

In the first badge, the jagged lines in the iron fist symbolize the hair I have torn out or the straws that broke the camel’s back. In the second badge, the keys are there to unlock my brain.