Today definitely started off like a Monday. It definitely feels like it’s Monday. You know, when you’re still recuperating from being off on the weekend and you’re not ready to go back to work. When things go slower than they usually go. When people are slower than they usually are. When kids happen to be more annoying than ever.
This morning started off with me hitting the snooze button so many times that my alarm just seemed to give up.
5:35 a.m (Gentle waking alarm): Snooze
5:45 a.m. (Letting you know it’s almost that time alarm): Snooze
5:50 a.m. (Time to get up alarm): Snooze
5:55 a.m. (Ok, you had 5 minutes, now get up alarm): Snooze
6:00 a.m (You’re going to need to get a move on it alarm): Snooze
6:05 a.m. (You’re going to go crazy getting everything together alarm): Wait, did this one go off?
6:10 a.m. (That’s it you’re going to be late alarm): I swear I didn’t even hear this one either.
6:20 a.m. I finally jumped out of bed. Well, it was more like rolled out.
Although my time was quickly passing, I still wasn’t rushing like I should have been. I’m just losing steam. I’m so exhausted that being late doesn’t seem to make me so anxious lately. Realizing that I don’t have anything prepared sort of puts me in a slight panic. I don’t have clothes picked out for today, I don’t have Carter’s lunch or snack prepared, I don’t have my lunch prepared, I don’t have Taylor’s diaper bag ready. So my morning routine just got jam packed.
6:20-6:35: Teeth brushing, face washing, make up. Needless to say I still look way too tired.
6:35-6:50: What to wear? What to wear? I opt for a cute dress I just bought. As I slip it on and look in the mirror, my eyes go straight to my gut. Ugh. This dress isn’t exactly flattering in that area. It definitely shouts “Hey look, I haven’t been to the gym in weeks and yet I still stuff my face with crap!” I take the dress off and throw it in the ever growing pile of clothes on the edge of Taylor’s bed. I grab a button-up shirt in my closet and throw it on with some pants and again look in the mirror. Hhmmm… my shirt looks like it needs to be ironed. Which of course I’ll never do. I guess it was stuck in a pile for too long and got wrinkled. Nothing new there. Off goes that shirt and into the pile.
What else do I have clean? I head to the laundry basket since it’s where I usually keep my clean and folded clothes. I grab a shirt out that looks decent enough and figure out what to do next.
6:50 a.m.: Panic sets in. By this time I’m usually heading out of the door.
6:50-6:57 a.m.: Rush to the kitchen to get lunches ready. My lunch. Check. Carter’s lunch and snacks. Check. Taylor’s milk and clothes all ready to go. Check.
6:57-7:01 a.m.: I race to Carter’s room to dress him. On most mornings he’s still sleeping when I dress him. Today, of course, is one of those mornings. After I carry him to the bathroom and he wakes up a little I ask him to go brush his teeth. He smiles, squeals, and runs around the room. Oh, now he’s fully awake. And so is Taylor.
7:01-7:05 a.m: Change the baby’s diaper, get her dressed and try to head to the front to get out of this house!
The kids have other ideas. After asking Carter to brush his teeth over and over I finally give up and start to leave the room. That’s when he decides he would comply and brush his teeth. These kids I swear. Taylor on the other hand has left the room and come back with one of her shoes from the diaper bag. As I head into the living room I notice a trail of diaper bag items in the hallway. Another shoe. A diaper. Sippy cup. And all the wipes.
I grab my phone to check the time. 7:17 a.m. Jesus Frikin Christ! Why is the time flying? Certainly not because I’m having any type of fun. I grab all the crap and shove it back in the diaper bag as I fuss Taylor for taking it all out. She doesn’t care. She babbles something to me and then says “Mommy. Daddy. Mommy. Daddy.” Ok then. I open the fridge to grab my coffee and turn back around to my makeup in the fridge. I sigh and just close the door.
I gather up all the bags I carry each day as I attempt to head out the door. Diaper bag, lunch bags, purse and school bag. Ok good. Until I look down and notice I still have on my slippers. I just want to give up at this point but I know that’s not an option. In the desperate search for my matching shoe I have Carter touching my face very lovingly (but still annoying) and Taylor clamping onto my legs for me to carry her. As I’m bending down to change my shoes, my bags are falling off of my shoulders. It’s just a big mess.
Times a tickin.
By 7:30 a.m I am in the car and ready to get the hell outta there. I just want the day to be over and it’s barely begun. Guess I gotta buckle up and enjoy the ride.
I’m just glad it’s not really Monday.