Can we talk about mornings? Getting two toddlers (ages 2.5+ and almost 1.5) all on my own is a feat. Some mornings go smoother than others. Some mornings they both wake up with smiles on their faces and pass out hugs and kisses with ease. Those mornings are the best.
Then there are our other mornings. They often start out with my oldest claiming that she wants to stay in her jammies “all day long” because they’re comfy. (I hear what she’s saying, I really really do.) No she doesn’t want a ponytail. Wait, never mind, yes she does. She doesn’t want to wear pants, she wants to wear a dress. Unfortunately all her dresses are in the laundry hamper waiting to be washed. Finally she’s dressed and we head next door to get her little sister up. Only she doesn’t want me to put her down. She begins screaming and peeling her coat, shoes, and socks off in protest.
While my oldest is undoing all that I’ve painstakingly done to get her ready, I’m doing my best to change my youngest child’s diaper, which I imagine, is similar to changing an angry baby crocodiles diaper. After much squirming and pinning down (and screaming) I get my youngest dressed and ready to go. She’s now all smiles. Until I have to put her down to get my oldest re-dressed.
Once everyone is dressed and ready to go, no one want to walk to the car. They both insist on being carried and we are officially running late, late, late. Knowing that we just need to get out the door and on our way right.this.minute, I hoist one into each arm, for a combined weight of 50 pounds, and struggle out to the car. You best believe that I’m now sweating and we can also both agree that I should be in better shape with this re-occurring morning cardio and weight training session.
Of course before they are buckled in, I have given them some sort of breakfast. Even though they will have a full breakfast in approximately one hour at school they will scream (literally scream) with hunger pains the entire drive to school. I now “get” why all my mom friends have dirty crumb infested vehicles. My oldest is wailing in despair because her PB and jelly toast is not staying perfectly folded as it should. My youngest is happy as a clam since she has something to eat.
As we back out of the garage, I hear the sweetest little voice, “Mom I pooped.”
Eventually we make it daycare. We must drop the baby off first before the oldest or the world will end as we know it. Hugs and kisses all around and I’m speeding off to work, which luckily is less than 5 minutes away. I springt into the office 10 minutes late where I’m met with disapproving silence and judgement from my darling co-worker. I’m focusing on saying only nice things if I can’t say anything at all. I put a lot of pressure on myself.
How are your mornings?