The First Hour (or so) of Our Day

My life sometimes feel like the photo-negative of The Donna Reed Show. Let me elaborate.

I am not a morning person. School begins at 7:30am. I'm supposed to be there by 7:15.  The alarm sounds, for me (Andy and I have separate alarms), at 5:38am. Yes, I said 5:38am. This is the time I would have to wake up in my own personal Hell. However, I set the alarm for 5:38am because my snooze feature lasts exactly 7 minutes so if I snooze once, I am out of bed at 5:45...theoretically. Now, ask me how often I actually get up at 5:45 and I will lie directly to your face. Actually, I gauge when to emerge from bed by 2 factors: 1) Do I need to shave my legs? and 2) Has Andy's alarm gone off yet? If Andy's alarm has already gone off then I have to haul ass because his alarm goes off at 6. But, I digress.

I squint while preparing to shower and only open my eyes completely after my hair has been shampooed. My parents, husband, cats and children have all learned NOT to speak to me unless spoken to first until I'm out of the shower. If I've had my shower, it's a pretty good bet I won't do my impersonation of Regan from The Exorcist if you ask me where your shoes are. I'm in a fairly good humor for about 3.7 minutes until I have to dry my hair. Drying my hair makes me sweat. Even with it this short. Even standing under the ceiling fan. Even with the A/C on. Even when it's "cold" outside (we live in Florida, remember?). And a sweaty me is not a happy me.

So now I'm sweaty and pissed and this is usually the time that Emma emerges from her room. She, too, is not a morning person. We have begun setting her alarm at 6:20 because even though Andy and the kids don't normally leave until 7:30, it takes Emma about 40 minutes just to become bearable. I have dubbed her The Emma-nal due to the ferociously feral noises that issue from her when you try to talk to her early in the morning. Yes, yes...Pot - Kettle and all that. (Karma is a bitch.) At least she hasn't started throwing things at me if I go in her room in the morning. (Sorry, Mom.) Emma's usually not OK until she's sat and stared and her breakfast items for at least 5 minutes. Jackson's morning wake times are so unpredictable right now he could have been up for over an hour by now or he could still be asleep or he could be standing in his darkened room yelling at the rest of us to, "Go back to seep!" It's a toss-up, really. In any event, before being herded to the car he will definitely have one to three piggy-back rides, use a coat-hanger as a weapon on all remaining family members and a cat, and gotten out either a rumbly truck or emergency vehicle with working sirens.

While the children are, or are not, waking up and starting breakfast, I put on my make-up. Many times this involves begging from one or both children to wear eyeliner, blush and/or lipstick. At this point, Andy has either lapped me completely and is totally ready or he's finished with his ablutions and is ironing his final piece of clothing while supervising breakfast. He cajoles, bribes, yells, pleads and begs the children into eating their breakfast while I finish getting dressed and pack up my school bag. (Yes, if I were running for Mother of the Year, I would already be dressed and awake before the kids get up. But you know me, people. I love to sleep and my morning routines are carefully scheduled out to ensure maximum sleepage.) Thankfully, I have mastered making lunches and picking out the kids' clothes at night so there are two less hurdles we have to jump in the morning.

After my bag is packed and I've kissed everyone, I head out the door between 6:50 and 7:00. It's surreal really - to leave my wonderful husband sitting at the table with my children as they all yell some form of goodbye to me while finishing their breakfasts. (True to my Snider upbringing, I do not eat breakfast at home. If I eat anything at all, I have a breakfast bar of some kind.) I feel like the quintessential hard-working breadwinner on his (her) way to the "office" while the family finishes breakfast.

The thing is, no matter how crazy our mornings are (or aren't on the days I leave before anyone's awake) I feel lucky just to get to go to bed and get up and do it all again the next day.