I used to love mornings. And now? I am telling you, I would seriously pay someone 10,000 a year just to get my kids out the door in the mornings. Every day, I get up at 5:20, stretch, go running, hurry back to shower, get kids up, complaining out of bed. Tell them sixteen times to get dressed, make breakfast that's usually unappreciated, half-eaten, or ignored entirely. Ask them twenty seven more times to get their shoes on and their backpacks on, and then leave, frustrated, to drop them off at school.
Oh, that's why I used to love mornings. I used to get up a leisurely hour before I had to be anywhere, shower, drink coffee and listen to Bob Dylan or Sarah Harmer, look out the window, enjoy some quiet solitude and get to work on time...every day.
Now, the two above descriptions are obviously on the extreme ends of certain kinds of mornings...Those were nor are they now the way every morning goes. But today was one of those bad ones. I had to wake both kids up from a dead sleep and they were not happy about being upright. I took pains to make a breakfast that both of them would like (which meant different breakfasts for each kid) and Lucy had a meltdown because Coen had star-shaped vitamins and she didn't. She wanted star shaped vitamins. Howcome Coen got them. Whaaa haaaa haaaa..
And then after breakfast they played, and each time I was not in the room (because I was getting us ready to go) there was an enormous fight. I heard "Don't DO that Lucy!" "Stop it Coen!" and plenty of crying. I was in the bathroom and saw some toy coins fly in my general direction. When it was time to go, there were tears from both of them and I declared that there would be no more toys in the morning if this was how it was going to be and was met with more tears, which just meant more time before anyone would actually put their *&^%ing shoes on!!!!! I got so frustrated, I excused myself to the back hallway so I wouldn't freak out in front of them. Shutting the door behind me, I shouted out some choice words and proceeded to have some kind of manic adult tempertantrum.
When I opened the door, Coen and Lucy were behind it and Coen was poised (in his shoes, mind you) with these wierd laser things on his fingers saying, "Don't worry, Lucy. I'll protect you!" When I emerged, he said, "Oh! Mommy. I'm glad you're back. When you were gone we heard some scary noises coming from somewhere! First we heard a weird kid crying and then we heard a weird old lady!!" I didn't tell him that the weird kid and weird old lady were actually his weird mom, freaking out in the privacy of the back hallway.
At any rate, they were ready to go. And so was I.
My wish is for a morning where everyone is smiling and calm. And we're all on time for where we have to be. And I drop them off like Mary Poppins, giving them kisses and floating away to work like an on-time angel. That's were my $10,000 a year paid staff comes in. Getting my kids dressed and fed, whilst I read my magazine and take over when it is time to dole out goodbye kisses.