The melodic tune of torture awakens me at 4:30am. It’s Aaron’s alarm. It’s not overly loud. I’m just mad that I’m now awake. He checks his phone catching up on the overnight news as I drift off to sleep.
My own alarm sounds its siren at 5:20 reminding me to start my own morning rituals. Check my email, read a blog or two, meander around the old Facebook before hair and makeup transform me from troll to presentable professional. But I’m just so tired. So I sat in bed until nearly 5:45am and now I’m totally rushed.
Then it’s time. Aaron asks me if I want him to get McKenna into the bathroom. I certainly don’t want to do it. After her sleepover hangover from yesterday, she fell asleep while on our weekly excursion to dinner with Great Grandpa. I knew that bedtime was going to be a mess, hence a grumpy wake up this morning.
Anything not to have to deal with THAT.
It’s now 6am and I have exactly 30 minutes to get McKenna, George and myself out of the house. Aaron carries a barely awake McKenna to the potty while I toss a couple of cereal bars and yogurt drinks on the kitchen table. Aaron leaves for his long trek to work and I’m left alone with the little morning monsters.
George didn’t want me to change his diaper, leg-locking around the soggy mess yelling mine into his quiet and dim bedroom.
The kid is so tired he wants to keep his piss soaked diaper?! That’s tired, man.
McKenna has left the bathroom only to climb back into her bed.
Damn! I’m back where I started.
George is finally dressed and eating his breakfast. McKenna is fighting getting dressed and I seriously have zero patience for this. She’s literally screaming that she needs to go back to bed and she’s just too tired.
No school today. I’m too sleepy. Join the party, pal.
Finally. Once dressed in mismatched dress, leggings, Christmas socks, cardigan sweater ensemble, I am able to get her to the living room to eat something.
I now need to get myself dressed, teeth brushed and everyone into the van. This is the stuff of superheroes. It’s been quite the ordeal…as it always is. I’m exhausted by the time I wrestle the kids into daycare, hang their ponchos, and get their hands washed. I kiss both their heads and run the hell out of there.
Now where’s my coffee?
I am writing for the 2020 Slice of Life Challenge.