I wrote this blog post last year for my other blog, Chasing His Sunshine. Really, the only thing that has changed is that I am no longer breast-feeding and we are getting marginally more sleep. Other than that, situation normal.
This a post about what my morning looked like. And pretty much the morning before it and the morning before it. So if you have had one of those mornings. If every weekday morning tends to be one of those mornings. This is for you – you are not alone.
Wake up with eldest child’s foot in my face. How is eldest child in the bed?
Squint blearily to make out the time on the alarm clock. 6:35am. Make conscientious decision not to calculate the amount of sleep actually had after waking twice with the baby. No good can come of it. Check monitor and sigh with relief that said baby is still sleeping. Hope madly that school lunch can be made prior to baby waking up.
Realise that eldest child’s foot is still in my face and that he is playing with the dog at the end of the bed. Realising that he and dog are actually involved in a lick fest. Rather than greeting eldest child with a beautiful “good morning” and cuddle, say “You know you aren’t meant to do that – don’t lick the dog back!”
Husband wakes, stretches and heads for a shower. Think not very charitable thoughts about how nice it must be to have only person to get ready.
Get up. Dog and eldest child involved in a very loud game up the corridor. Baby wakes up. Baby demands cuddles. Realise that the dishes still are not done from the night before. Wait until husband out of the shower before running the hot water. Think this is really very nice of me.
Tidy kitchen and make school lunch with one hand as holding baby on hip.
Ask eldest to dress for school. He cannot. He must finish his game of legos. Try not to raise voice. Breathe.
Ask eldest child to eat his breakfast. He cannot. He must finish his colouring in. Try not to raise voice. Breathe.
Make coffee in vain hope of finishing it whilst still warm. Should really just switch to very short espressos. Try to feed baby yoghurt. Baby doesn’t really want yoghurt. Baby wants a proper breast feed. Feed. Change baby. Calculate own time to get ready is rapidly dwindling. Should still have 10 minutes though.
Pour cold coffee down drain.
Eldest child asks where his shoes are. Tell him wherever he left them last.
Eldest child asks where his homework envelope is. Tell him where he left them last.
Eldest child needs a feather. Not entirely sure why but is terribly insistent about it. Locate feather.
Time to get self ready now at about 5 minutes. Doable. Panic rising slightly.
Get in shower. Baby crying. Have to leave baby crying. Fret about immense psychological damage this might doing him. Pause and think about immense psychological damage this might be doing me. Get changed. Hold baby. Brush hair and put in contacts with one hand.
We seem to be relatively on time.
Put dog outside. Have to employ military style tactics to trick dog into thinking this a good idea.
Cannot find keys. Where are the keys? Why don’t I leave the keys in the same place? WHERE ARE MY KEYS?
Mummy, they are probably where you last left them.
Make it to school in ample time, looking like a nice, normal family. Just like everyone else.