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I get out of bed. I take my pills which sit on my nightstand with a glass of water at the ready. I brush my teeth, my hair, use the bathroom, put in my contacts & pull on pants.
I wake up the girls with kisses, one, two, three. Lazy summer mornings gone, harder to wake up. They move slowly. I move fast, it’s my job. Morning time flies. We can’t be late.
I get the baby up, change her wet, bulging diaper. She cries, rubs her eyes, reaches for her paci and her crib as I get her dressed. Like her sisters, she is tired, dragging. Not back in the swing of early school mornings.
I carry her down the hall where the big girls remain motionless in beds. With an edge in my voice this time, I remind them they have to get up or we’ll be late for school. I take baby downstairs, put her in her booster seat, pour her cereal. Crunching sounds, cuteness. She is happy with Cheerios and milk.
I start making cinnamon toast. I take the dog out, grab the newspaper, scoop the dog’s poop. When I get back inside, baby’s crying, alone at the kitchen table. Sunlight streams in on her head and I realize I haven’t fixed her hair. I brush her blond wavy locks and she whines, but keeps stuffing cereal into her hungry mouth.
I look at the clock & yell for the twins again. I feel tense. Piper’s toast is ready. I cut it into bites, put it in front of her, wiping cinnamon on my pants. The light is too bright. I close the shades a bit. Finally the girls come downstairs.
The big sisters slowly scrounge for cereal. One hasn’t brushed her hair yet. I hand her a brush, set out bowls, spoons and cups for them. They stand sleepily in the pantry, just staring at the boxes. I feel frustrated.
I look at the clock. I set the timer so they need to know when to go upstairs to brush teeth, potty, etc. before we leave. They stall. They take their time.
I get more tense.
I grab the dog’s dishes, give him fresh water and food, hide his medicine in a ball of bread. He eats the bread first, then hides under baby’s booster waiting for her to start throwing.
The twins pour cereal, a lot lands on the counter, some scatters on the floor. Paws come, clickety-clack. Doggie crunching and snarfing sounds. I clip him to a leash tied to the oven door handle. Mini poodle has stomach issues.
The twins sit and finally start eating. I look at my trio and as they giggle and make faces at each other, laughing…and I’m happy. But it hardly seems to last because…
Then fighting starts. About something the night before that I don’t want to dredge up again. The timer goes off. I ask for plates and bowls, watching chubby baby legs kick under the table. Baby teeth crunching. Sticky baby hands clutching a cup of milk. Gulping sounds, she can’t get enough.
Plates clatter into the sink. Feet stomp upstairs, pausing at the landing to look out the window. I look at the clock. I breathe, try not to yell, and tell her she has GOT TO GO BRUSH HER TEETH. NOW.
Somehow shoes are on. Lunch boxes, umbrellas, notes to teachers, backpacks, kids, and mom get into the car by 8:00.
And I heave a sigh of relief that on this morning?
We are not late.
I didn’t know how in the world I was going to do this. But I was able to get something. It’s done in the same style as yours. I’m going to put it in the link up. I hope to see yours there.
Michael,
I’m so glad you did and happy to see you exploring new things. It’s good for both of us, ya know?!?!
I agree. It’s just such an unusual way of writing for me.
Thank you for that peek into your morning. It’s amazing to me how connected we all are, even if we feel alone.
Remember that tension that you felt: because THAT is what your children feel — our children feel — all day, every day. Not fun.
I still have a few weeks before my son starts high school. Freaking high school, Erin! {can you even believe that?} Hopefully, he’ll want me to get up with him on that first day for a kiss at the kitchen table.
But probably not.
Can’t wait to hear how this went. I’m sure for the first little while they test the system.
This sounds familiar 🙂 Except my kids have to be at school by 7:45. Doors lock after that. Pray for me! We do SO MUCH in the mornings don’t we? It’s amazing what we get accomplished in the moments we stumble from bed. xx
Hang on tight, Erin. It gets easier in many ways.
I’m getting tense just reading this. I thought my mornings were a scramble – I can’t imagine adding 2 more kids!
Just keep breathing though. Stay calm. XO
Some days, I really don’t look forward to mornings because although we don’t have to rush (preschool starts at 8.30, and we’re less than 10 minutes drive away), the kids get very fighty and aggressive in the morning and my coffee gets cold, and my breakfast is always left half-eaten until 10.00, when I can get the baby down for his nap, then I can finish it. I get your frustration, so much. xo
School begins here this Monday and I am tense already knowing that many mornings will be like yours today. Eventually we will all find our rhythms (fingers crossed).
LOL That’s so sweet that you think that control is possible. *grins*
Your morning routine needed no analysis, explanation or clarification. As a parent, I’ve been there. As a writer, I’m grateful to feel every moment with you. I’ll check out Just Write.
Mary,
I hope you do check out Just Write! Heather is awesome and it’s a great community. Plus? You get to write whatever you want, no prompt, no pressure. I just need to do better about reading more of the other entries. 😉
Getting up and out is hard. It doesn’t matter if it is the first morning or the last.
I love this. I could see it all. Felt like I was a fly on the wall in your kitchen.
This is such an interesting exercise, to write and not analyze. I love the way it came out. Mornings are tough!
Mornings like this are so frustrating, aren’t they? And I’ve got 180 of them to go. Here’s to on-time days!