My alarm didn’t go off on Saturday morning at 6am as I had programmed it to.

Darn it.

After a full week of working until 1-2am each night and, of course, staying up until 11pm on Friday dreaming of all the personal assistants I could hire if my Mega Millions ticket was a winner, I was simply in no state to wake up on my own accord.

I scrambled out of bed, attempted to wipe the bleary from my eyes, threw my hair up in a ponytail, pulled on a fleece and sprinted down to the kitchen.

Why such a tizzy on a Saturday morning?

You see, by 10am all kindergarten moms had to deliver a cake to room 109 or risk excommunication from the PTO. The cakes were slated to be prizes in a cake walk game at the school fair, an event that raises a big portion of the funds that make our school such an awesome place.

My hectic insane week meant I had no cake already made. Although I did have a few Pinteresting fantasies of what I could have made.

Like this gorgeous rainbow cake from Sweetapolita, for example.

I looked at the clock. 7:20.

In the words of Eminem: Oh! Snap back to reality. Oh! There goes gravity! Oh! There goes Rabbit but he won’t give up that easily.

I knew how to make cupcakes. And although the instructions specifically called for a cake, I figured I could put 6 together on a plate in lieu of a cake. If I made 24, I’d be able to contribute 4 cakes. Super Mom bonus points!

Being a kindergarten mom, I hadn’t a clue where room 109 was, but I figured if I pulled into the parking lot by 9:53, I could find it in the nick of time.

Now, cupcakes generally take 45 minutes to an hour to bake and 15-20 minutes to cool enough to put icing on…so you can see why I wasn’t happy about the alarm failure.

Nonetheless, I put on my Super Mom cape and went to work, barking at any poor soul who got in my way.

In the two minute break I had after the icing was made but the cupcakes were still baking, I panicked. The instructions said cake. What was I thinking, going off the brief and making cupcakes?!

I looked up “delicious chocolate cake” on Pinterest and found this gorgeous confection from My Baking Addiction staring back at me.

I went for it.

Cut to 10:10am. Chocolate cake was complete, but left abandoned on my counter top. After I read the small print on the school flyer, I realized that it was unsuitable as the chocolate powder I had used to make it was made in a factory that also handled nuts.

NUTS! Back to Plan A.

I skidded into room 109 like Kramer from Seinfeld, hair askance, fleece spotted with flour, icing, and a few sprinkles. I breathlessly hand over my cupcake “cakes” to a volunteer who looked at me sympathetically (or was that derisively?) and put my clearly handmade goodies on some risers amidst a sea of gorgeous, store-bought cakes.

Now why didn’t I think of that?

On my race back home to shower and dress so that I would be ready for my volunteer shift at 11:00, I pondered the lessons from my rushed, stressed-to-the-max morning.

I came up with these seven signs it’s time to fire your inner Super Mom.

You’re Muttering to Yourself Under Your Breath

When you start repeating what you have to do next under your breath like Rainman, it’s time to hang up the cape. Definitely. Definitely. Time to hang up the cape. Yeah. Time to hang up the cape.

You Feel Put Out

My husband has a little noise he makes, sort of an annoyed-sounding, breathy “eh-eh” that pretty much sums this one up. If you make that sound. Hang it up, sister.

You Make/Bake Something from Scratch When Scratch Doesn’t Matter

Yeah. No kid in the world cared if the cake they won was homemade or not. In fact, they probably preferred the professionally made ones. My morning would have looked a whole lot different had I just raised the white flag and run to Stop & Shop to pick up a ready-made confection.

You’re Barking At Your Family When They’re Just Being Normal

Enough said.

You Don’t Have Time to Shower Before Heading Out the Door

Yep. It sort of ruins the whole Super Mom image, now doesn’t it?

You Start Comparing What You Do to What Your Spouse Does

This, along with barking at your family for being normal, is the real death trap of Super-Mom-itis. Just because you agreed to bite off more than you could chew does not make your spouse a slacker.

You Feel the Need to Go 80 MPH in a 40MPH Zone

Think of the children, okay Super Mom?

Any other “Super Moms” out there? Can you relate? What warning signs did I miss?