In order to understand me a tiny bit better (which I’m quite sure you’ve been dying to do) I thought I would lay out for you a “typical” morning in our little suburban household. Now, understand, I have one second grader who attends public school and one four year-old who attends preschool two days a week. The following schedule depicts those two lovely days a week where Jack (the preschooler) actually detaches from my hip.
6:00 a.m. Alarm shrills. I hit the Snooze button and roll back over in bed.
6:05 a.m. Alarm shrills a second time. I curse and hit the Snooze button and roll back over in bed.
6:10 a.m. Alarm shrills a third time. I curse emphatically and roll over to hit the Snooze button only to be met by a tiny little person with swollen morning lips standing beside my bed demanding breakfast. When asked why he’s already out of bed I am answered with, “Your alarm woke me up. Now get me breakfast.” Why don’t I learn?
6:15 – 7:00 a.m. Field numerous questions from four year-old ranging from “Why do my ears have holes in them?” to “Is my winkadoo going to get any bigger when I grow up?’ As much as I stress the early hour, nothing dissuades my little man from hammering me with inquiries.
6:15 – 7:00 a.m. Pray for 7:30 (the point in time Jer takes Jack to school, thereby forcibly detaching him from my hip) to get here.
7:00 a.m. Wake Avery up from blissful slumber.
7:01 a.m. Thank God for blessing me with such a sweet little lady who hardly ever complains about anything I ask her to do.
7:01 1/2 a.m. Quickly thank God for blessing me with Jack, too.
7:05 – 7:15 a.m. Serve breakfast while convincing Jack that he does, indeed, have to carry a backpack to school even though he doesn’t check out books from the library like his sister. Remind Jack that I do not have to, in fact, make him a lunch to take to school as he is home each day by 10:45 a.m.
7:15 – 7:20 a.m. Remind Jack that he is most definitely required to brush his teeth even though he didn’t eat any dessert yet. And, no, we never have dessert after breakfast.
7:21 a.m. Thank God for blessing me with Avery.
7:21 1/2 a.m. Follow-up prayer adding Jack.
7:22-7:29 a.m. Pray for 7:30 to get here…fast.
7:30 a.m. TOUCHDOWN! Jack’s out the door with his dad (after a flurry of hair brushing, finding the socks Jack decided to put on the dog, putting shoes on, removing the Pop Tart from Jack’s sweatshirt pockets that he thought he would bring for his own personal “snack time” and convincing him, again, he does not have any library books.)
7:31 a.m. Close the front door behind Jack and Jer, lean against it and breathe a sigh of relief.
7:31-7:50 a.m. Spend a stress-free twenty minutes with Avery before she leaves for the school bus.
7:51 a.m. Rush to find “twelve objects that have two syllables” that Avery forgot she was supposed to bring to school that day.
7:52 a.m. Thank God that Jack is not yet required to bring objects from home to school. Thank God for Jack’s sweet little face.
7:53 – 10:40 Revel in the almost three hours of freedom before I have to pick up my little man from preschool. Unfortunately, at this stage in my life, “reveling” currently consists of laundry, kitchen clean-up, wiping urine from the toilet seat and cleaning crayon off the vinyl flooring. But, there’s something to be said for completing the above-listed tasks without a four year-old asking you to explain why dogs need eyeballs.
10:40 a.m. Rush to pick up Jack from preschool, realizing how much I actually miss his sweet little face when he’s gone.
10:50 a.m. Wonder why I was in such a hurry to pick him up.
10:51 – 1:00 p.m. Tend to Jack’s every need, praying for naptime.
1:01 p.m. Collapse in exhaustion on the couch, turn on “Quints by Surprise” and thank God for my life.
1:02 p.m. Snooze.
Well, there you have it, a glimpse into Jack’s preschool mornings. The other three days of the school week are much the same, without the three hours of freedom, and consisting of more winkadoo questions and general Jack-induced chaos. I realize I only have two kids. I realize I am not up against chaos at mass proportions. I realize that others may have itwayharder than I do. But, being that this is my blog, it’s my prerogative to vent. And, trust that if I have any inclination to expand my family exponentially thereby inflaming my already chaotic situation, you and TLC will be the first to know.