I pull myself out of bed, brush my teeth, stumble downstairs, and turn up the thermostat. Plop down in my favorite chair for some time in the Word. Not enough. Carry a load of laundry upstairs and put the clothes away in my dresser. Put toothpaste on the boys’ toothbrushes so they don’t empty the tube in one brushing.
Pop open the door of the kids’ room. Grab some clothes for Bubs, dole out instructions regarding laundry, and pull a weeping Little One from her crib. Yes, my three children do share a room. It’s as delightful as you might imagine.
Down the stairs I carry Little One, who is now quite happy for being released from her wooden prison. I plop her down into her high chair and give her a book. Scramble eggs, reheat pancakes, pour milk, answer questions, listen to happy baby sounds, unload dishwasher, clear table, start laundry, hug Bubs goodbye for the day, clean up Little One’s pear-and-snot covered face, make bottle, change diaper, dress baby. I lay her on the floor with her bottle and grab a cup of coffee.
I sit in my chair, coffee at my arm, and open my laptop. Half an hour for coffee and email and blogs and catching up with friends.
Enter password. Sip coffee. Read email from sister. Answer instant message from husband.
Sip coffee. Answer email from sister. Answer instant message from husband. Rescue Little One from imminent disaster involving cord. Give Little One bottle.
Read comment on blog. Update facebook status. Sip coffee. Answer instant message from husband. Read half a paragraph on someone’s blog. Wrestle mouse away from Little One. Give Little One bottle. Comment enthusiastically on the story Stinky is trying to tell me.
Sip coffee. Answer instant message from husband. Delete Flylady email with feeling of guilt. Read next half paragraph of blog. Answer question about rocket boosters. Remove Q-Tip from Little One’s mouth. Give Little One Bottle.
Sip coffee. Answer instant message from husband. Finish reading blog. Stop Little One from sucking on my toe. Get bite on big toe. Give Little One bottle. Attempt to comment on blog.
Gulp now lukewarm coffee. Answer email. Answer instant message. Answer question. Prevent Little One from pulling furniture down upon herself. Start to feel slightly hysterical.
Put Little One in walker (gasp). Gulp coffee. Finish commenting on blog. Answer instant message. Look at picture Stinky is showing me. Read new blog. Start to relax.
Answer phone. Chat for ten minutes. Listen to Little One become more and more agitated. Hang up. Rescue screaming daughter from walker. Give Little One bottle. Determine that coffee is now past drinking.
Answer email. Answer instant message. Smell something suspicious. Have another fight over the mouse. Realize son is watching computer screen over my shoulder. Feel hysteria swelling once again. Remove orange felt triangle from baby’s mouth. Wonder where orange felt triangle came from.
Answer instant message. Notice long line of green snot hanging from daughter’s nose. Feign interest at picture Stinky is showing me. Wipe baby’s nose. Accidentally sip cold, bitter coffee.
Give up on morning relaxation and decide to unwrap the gift that is my noisy, crazy, kid-filled life.
And pray to survive till naptime.