People ask me all the time how do you do it? How do you manage? and the answer is short and sweet. I don’t. I lose my mind about 2-3 times a day on average and every night I fall into bed pleading that the kids will actually go to bed like they are supposed to today because I am so exhausted I couldn’t possibly get out of bed again. But I do get out of bed again. And again. And again. But this isn’t going to be about bedtime, I’ll save that beauty for another time.  This is going to be about mornings, which are directly related to fact that bedtime is so difficult.

My mornings start at 6:00am. I wake up to “back that ass up” every morning as my alarm since I thought it would help me be peppy in the morning. It doesn’t work, in fact I don’t think there’s a song out that would wake me up in a peppy mood. I grab my phone and scroll through Facebook to see what I missed and after dropping the phone on my face a couple times I finally fall out of bed.  I tip toe to the bathroom careful not to wake up the puppy because who really wants to take her out at 6:15 in the morning? Not I. I shower, brush my teeth, and then walk around my room wrapped in a towel in search for clothes.  By the time this process is done it’s time to wake the kids…dun dun dunnn…

10YO is always first and the noise she makes is something between a growl, a grunt, and a whine—but she actually gets up and starts getting ready.  I wish I had that motivation.  Next are the 7YO and the 4YO. Now this is where the morning REALLY begins. 4YO stretches and “hits” 7YO, 7YO then retaliates by kicking 4YO out of bed (they have their own beds but they always sleep together, even though they obviously hate sleeping together) 4YO squeals loud enough to wake the complex and 7YO yells at her to shut up. 4YO then goes into a full blown tears and runs to me to tell on her sister. It’s 6:30 and I’m trying to tame my head so I ignore her antics and ask if she’s gotten dressed. This distracts her from the previous issue and puts her back on track.

My 7YO and 4YO wear the same size clothes, so although I pick out two separate outfits and try to cater to their individual styles it doesn’t work.  One always wants what the other has.  I allow this bickering to play out on its own while I finish getting ready.  It’s about 6:50 and I’m frantic at this point, yelling at kids put shoes on, take the dog out, put shoes on, find shoes, yes they have to match, find the match, and finally forget it just put two shoes on your feet.

At this point I look at my two little works of art. My 7YO did okay with a blue tutu dress, white tights, and black winter boots. Who care’s that it’s supposed to be 70 degrees today. My 4YO was much more interesting in a black dress covered in little red hearts, black and silver striped tights, an orange and grey striped jacket, and her typical black tennis shoes. It’s 7:10 and I still have to do hair so their outfits will do.  I decide my 4YO’s hair isn’t worth it as she screams like a banshee and she’s in preschool so who really cares? My 7YO cries and whines as I do her hair because she wants it “flat” which requires a professional and a whole lot more time. I give her two cute buns and she starts bawling and locks herself in the closet.

I breathe out a sigh of relief, whew, it’s 7:20 so I’ll only be a little late today, but then I remember I have 4 kids and not 3 and I have one that’s still in lullaby land.  I run around like a crazy women and start barking orders, you—diaper! You—wipes! You—get me her shoes! 2YO is not a morning person and fights everything I do. I put her shirt over her head and she puts her arms straight up. I try changing her diaper and she’s rolling and kicking in defense against the clean diaper, because how dare I take off her warm diaper she worked so hard on! Finally I get her all set and I am ready to go.  Huge 2YO HAS to be carried down the steps because she’s so exhausted she can’t walk.  4YO and 7YO bicker and threaten to push each other down the steps. 10YO remembers she needs her science project (which she ends up leaving in the car) so she has to run back to get it.  Everyone gets buckled in and we are on our way. For the record, I was only 15 minutes late 🙂