I hate weekday mornings. Even on the days that I go in late they suck. I wake up about an hour before the kids. The dogs get let out first and then I fix my cup of coffee, do my makeup, and get dressed. My goal is to do all of this BEFORE the kids are up. Mornings are hard for the hubby. His muscles and bones hurt and they take time to warm up before he can stand without being in excruciating discomfort. When he hears Jackson’s door open he turns on one of the morning movies or Bluey. Jackson drinks his morning bottle and soaks up the dad snuggles. Josie is usually already in the bed since her early morning nurse is around 4. By now my cup of coffee is half gone and cold. I’ll go top it off with some fresh coffee and join the bed crew. I will sit and enjoy the coffee and snuggles for a little bit before my feet hit the floor again. This is where time hits hyper speed. I’m not sure where these minutes go but I’m convinced I’m walking through knee high mud. We tag team getting the kids dressed and now the race is on. I start the car and load Josie first. I pop her pacifier in and kiss her forehead. When I walk in the door I cross my fingers that Jackson hasn’t left me a morning diaper surprise and chase him around the island before catching him. I get him loaded up and give him his morning snack and his juice (watered down propel) and turn on Noodle Loaf. Side note – Noodle Load is an adorable podcast for little ones. Now I go back inside and grab all the stuff I forgot with my 3 trips to the car. I kiss the hubby and out the door I go again. I never take into the opening and shutting of the gate so 90% of the time I’m pulling out of the driveway like Cruella Deville in 101 Dalmatians. I set my cruise because no one has time to get pulled over when we are already running behind. I drop Bubbies off at school, kid his forehead, and dash for the door before I can hear his cries. Then sister and I race to the gym to coach. Jackson’s new school is a bit further away and there are several schools between there and the gym. I have yet to find a route that isn’t packed with school traffic. My ONLY saving Grace each coaching morning is class has an unofficial start time at 8:05 so all the mamas have time to drop the kiddos off and drive reasonably to the gym. Every morning I am disappointed in myself. I replay the rat race within the last 20 minutes of the morning and think to myself… I yelled too much, I got mad at the dogs for being under my feet, my husband is staring at me like I’m insane, and my coffee is still sitting in the microwave. Each day I try to do it differently. I’ve laid clothes out, I’ve packed the car the night before, and countless other tricks. Nothing works to get us out the door early and barely on time. I have flashbacks from my childhood and just feel so bad for my mom. I was a brat in the morning (some might say that hasn’t changed). I can only think to myself that this is the universe giving me what I gave her. If you see a person with kids in their car in the morning please be kind. You don’t know how many times they had to change their clothes, cut toast squares, or how many battles were lost before getting in the car. Smile and nod and just know that if they seem frazzled they probably are but it has nothing to do with you.
The flip side to all of this. I love weekend mornings! Jackson is in a cinnamon roll phase so I start a fresh batch when I wake up and start my coffee. We all 7 (4 humans and 3 puppers) all pile up in bed and watch movies. About 10ish Jackson has had enough and we migrate to the living room or outside until lunch time. It’s chicken nugget time!! Then nap for the Bubs and then we pile up in bed again until he gets up. We usually spend the afternoons outside and then I start on dinner. Then we do it all again on Sunday ♥️
2 thoughts on “Madhouse Mornings”
Nice to catch up with the happenings in the Fritzipoo household. Don’t beat yourself up! I always reassure myself, whenever I feel like a bad parent, that I’m a “good enough parent.” It’s easier to live up to!
Great story. You describe what we have all lived:). You
are doing just fine. I (we) are proud of you