My Life Before 8 am

People ask me all the time what my mornings look like. To me it all seems very normal and manageable – until you throw in the inevitable tantrum or have to spend 10 minutes convincing your almost-4-year-old that his legs are not broken and he CAN get out of bed if he would just try (true story - see bullet #6).

For all of you who have asked, here is my account of a typical morning (this morning, to be exact):

• Woke up and scanned work emails for any overnight drama. More importantly, played my turns on Words With Friends


• Folded laundry/put in new load (truthfully I just needed clean socks, I'm usually not that motivated)


• Threw together dinner and revved up the crock pot


• Got myself showered, dressed, and presentable for work


• Woke up #1 and #2 out of Daylight Savings coma


• Convinced #2 that his legs were not broken, he was just tired. Got #1 and #2 dressed, teeth brushed, wrestled with cowlicks


• Woke up #3. Dressed, teeth brushed, wrestled with cold medicine


• Woke up #4. Changed clothes, fed bottle, wrestled with reflux medicine


• Reflux medicine rebelled. #4 puked on me – back to the closet to change shirt


• Brief moment of scowling due to the fact that I really liked how I looked in the now-puked-filled shirt


• Hustled all kids downstairs for granola bars and juice


• Crawled around on hands & knees searching for the stuffed hippo so #2 could bring something grey to show & tell. Finally located said hippo in pantry


• Corralled #2 and #3 into van. Drove to daycare


• Dropped kids off, completely forgot that #3 is out of diapers


• Drove to drug store, picked up overly priced diapers. Drove back to daycare to drop them off


• Back into van, convinced myself to ignore the gas light and wait until after work to fill up


• Drove to the Q to start my second job. Settled into desk at 8 am


• Sipped lukewarm tea in peace and quiet. Ohm.