Nothing Routine About Our Mornings
According to the dictionary, the word routine means: a sequence of actions regularly followed; a fixed program. In my opinion when you have children, there is very little about the morning that is routine.
This is how this morning went:
My son leaves the house daily at 7:10am to catch a 7:21am bus to get to middle school which starts at 7:55am.
6:15am – Alarm goes off. Snooze. Whoever invented this – genius or devil? Brilliant either way.
6:24am – Alarm goes off. Fastest 9 minutes ever. Resist temptation to snooze again. Too tempting…..snooze….zzzz
6:33am – Alarm goes off. Dammit. It’s really time. Round 1 begins. T-minus 37 minutes until son has to leave for bus.
6:34am – Enter son’s room. “What would you like for breakfast?” Grunt. “Breakfast?” Grunt. “OK – you’ll get Cheerios.” Grunt. “Come downstairs.” Grunt.
6:35am – Put Cheerios in a bowl, pour OJ, grab vitamins. Turn on Heat! Son likes his heat in the morning.
6:40am – Son doesn’t come down. Shocker. Go back upstairs to grab son out of bed. ‘Time to get up. Get up!” Uh-oh mama moment coming over me: Oh my – how cute does he look? My little baby boy sleeping…. T-minus 30 minutes. Moment over: Pull covers off of son and we both head downstairs.
6:42am – Cheerios? I didn’t want Cheerios? Of course you didn’t my love. “Eat the Cheerios, please.” Son eats Cheerios reluctantly. T-Minus 28 minutes.
6:50am – “Get dressed. And don’t forget the deodorant. Deodorant! Don’t forget the deodorant!” When can tween boys start to use real deodorant? Cause this organic shit really doesn’t work.
7:00am – T-minus 10 minutes. Son still not dressed. I become a crazy woman. “@%&##$%&!!” Son gets dressed.
7:10am – Son puts on backpack that is twice the thickness of his little body. What is in this thing anyway? Oh look – it’s the 3 sweatshirts that have seemed to have been lost over the first few months of school. I think the lost and found has our name on it. T-minus 0 minutes until he has to leave!
7:14am – Big hugs and son leaves for bus. T-Plus 4 minutes. He better make this bus. I think of all the scenarios about what happens if he misses the bus. Ugh if he misses bus, I’ve got to wake daughter up, get her dressed, all ready for school…Wait, I can’t go out looking like THIS. Wait, if he does miss bus will he not come home because he is afraid to tell me? Mind goes off on a tangent….STOP. He will make the bus.
7:15am: Oh look at all the Cheerios on the floor. Apparently, I style my house after the Ground Round. Does anyone remember that place?
Yay! Round 1 over. T Minus-35 minutes until Round 2 and my tougher opponent. To shower or not shower? Eh, no shower. Apparently I WILL go out of the house looking like THIS. Coffee time. Let’s see what’s cooking on Facebook.
Oh, those Facebook memory pics get me every time. My baby girl! Must share. Everyone must see this again! Surely they don’t remember this pic from 2 years ago.
Aww, love that meme. Must share and tag my childhood BFFs.
That “Poehler/Fey 2016” shirt is awesome. I really think they should run.
7:30am: Guess little guy made the bus. T- minus 20 minutes until Round 2. Shower? Nah. Check work e-mail. He did make the bus, right?
leave the house at 8:20am to catch the 8:30am bus to school. We leave the house around 8:40am for the drive to school, which starts at 9:00am.
7:50am: T-minus 0 minutes until Round 2.. I’m going in. Wish me luck. “Time to get up angel.” Grrr! I want to sleep. I need sleep! “What would you like for breakfast?” You’re mean. “I’m going down to put cereal in a bowl. Come down in 5 minutes.”
New Countdown begins: T-Minus 50 minutes. Plenty of time!
7:52am: Oh my son didn’t drink his OJ. It is now for my daughter. Move full cup over from his side of table to daughter’s side of table.
7:55am: Daughter doesn’t come down. Shocker. Go back upstairs to grab her out of bed. Holy, what are we going to do that hair? Who am I kidding? Nothing! We are doing nothing with her hair.
8:00am: Daughter gets to kitchen table. That is not my drink. “Yes, it is.” NO! That is my brother’s! It’s in a blue cup. I want my own drink in a pink cup. Oh, if only my own mother was a fly on the wall.
8:05am: Eats cereal, watches a little TV. We both ignore the blue/pink cup situation.
8:10am: T-minus 30 minutes. “Let’s get dressed.” You’re mean. “I know, you told me that already.”
8:20am: T-minus 20 minutes. “Let’s get dressed.” You’re mean. “I know, you told me that already.”
8:22am: Mom you only gave me one sock. “No I didn’t.” I only have one sock! Good lord, where is that other sock? I know I brought 2 down. I head back upstairs to dig another matching pair out of the basket of clean laundry. And head back down with new pair of socks.
8:30am: Brush your teeth. I don’t like brushing my teeth! It’s boring! Crap, did my son brush his teeth? Eww, hope so. He did make the bus, right?
8:35am: T-minus 5 minutes. “Put on your shoes.” She listens! She didn’t argue! Owww, my toenail! Mama, I need you to cut my toenail, which obviously couldn’t have been done BEFORE she puts on the socks and shoes. Nail clippers. 100 nail clippers that are always lying around when you don’t need them…Where are they? Just one! I just need one! Nope – didn’t find a one. Cuticle cutter found though. She’s gonna freak. Don’t let her see. “Here my love, play with my phone.” Nail cut and she didn’t notice. Hah! Got you little one!
8:40am: T-minus 0 minutes. Mama, I love you. “I love you too my girl.” I love you more, mama. “Not possible, my dear.” Mama melting here.
8:45am: T-Plus 5 minutes. Out the door and into the car. Drive by bus stop. Good sign – my son is not there. That is a good sign, right? OK, need to take short cut through muddy back road to get to school on time, which my husband hates cause car gets all dirty. Too bad.
8:52am: Pull into school parking lot, park and walk my daughter into school. Big hugs. Schmooze a bit with another mother who apparently DOESN’T leave house looking like THIS. I really need to think about showering more.
8:57am: Drive home.
9:10am: Back at my desk. Let the day begin. Oh look…there’s that other sock…and I think it’s laughing at me.