Oh What a Beautiful Morning…

Before I head to work this morning, I feel the need to chronicle my morning, so far. I know it’s a long shot, folks, but does anyone else have mornings like this with their kids? Scarily, this is pretty much par for the course at our house.

7:11: I tell Boy #2 it’s time to get up. He doesn’t respond. I tell him again. He lets out a cross between a whine, a scream, and a yawn and says, “I’m too tired!” I stay calm and tell him that he needs to get up anyway.

7:12: I tell Boy #1 that it’s 7:12. “I KNOW!” he yells from underneath his covers. Apparently it is now my fault that the sun rises.

7:15: I tell Boy #2 again that he needs to get up. I go downstairs and pour Boy #1 and Boy #2 each a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. (Yes, it’s healthy. It is fortified with essential vitamins and minerals. And sugar.)

7:18: I yell up the stairs at Boy #2 to GET UP, to which I get this response: “MY LEG HURTS!” Oh, I forgot. Last night he said his leg hurt. I should’ve known that it would come up again this morning. “Well, you’ll have to hobble down here then!” I yelled with a pinch of sympathy. He replies, “I CAN’T MOVE! IT HURTS!!!!!” I respond, “Well, you’re going to have to find a way to move because you’re going to be late for school if you don’t get down here NOW!” He replies, “YOU HATE ME!!! YOU WANT ME TO BE HURT! IF I MOVE I’M GOING TO DIE!!!” I not-so-calmly respond, “YOU WON’T DIE! GET DOWN HERE NOW OR YOU WON’T GO TO FUN NIGHT TOMORROW NIGHT!” (Oh, yes, it’s our school’s “fun night” tomorrow, which is, ironically, in no way fun for the parents.)

You may be wondering why I’m not more concerned about my son’s leg. Well, I would be except that literally every week it’s a new injury. He’s going through a bit of a phase that includes multiple ailments and maladies, lots of limping and a fair amount of whining and anger. So pretty much until I see a bone sticking out, I’m not going to take anything too seriously.

7:25: I go upstairs and try to help him get out of his loft bed and down the stairs. Apparently even though only one of his legs hurts, he can’t use either leg. Funny how that works. I put my arm around him and pretty much drag him down the stairs while he tries to limp and says “OW!” every three seconds.

7:32: Boy #3 suddenly yells from the kitchen, “YOU DIDN’T ASK ME WHAT KIND OF CEREAL I WANTED! I DIDN’T WANT CINNAMON TOAST CRUNCH! AND THERE’S NOT ENOUGH MILK!” I again-not-so-calmly yell back, “TOO BAD! YOU LOVE CINNAMON TOAST CRUNCH! THERE’S NO OTHER CEREAL YOU LIKE! EAT IT OR GO HUNGRY!”

7:33 to 7:36: Boy #3 cries and screams about his cereal. In his rant he tells me that I hate him because I don’t want him to have enough milk. Yes, that’s it. You have finally caught on to my evil scheme, Boy #3.

7:37: I pour a smidgen more milk in Boy #3’s cereal, just to make him stop screaming, and tell him he has two minutes to shovel it all in.

7:40: I become a drill sergeant: “SOCKS! SHOES! COAT! WHERE IS YOUR COAT? DO YOU HAVE YOUR SHOES ON? SHOES! SHOES! DO YOU HAVE YOUR SHOES?”

7:45: I am still a drill sergeant, to what I’m sure are the most poorly trained recruits around. “HURRY UP! LET’S GO! WE ARE GOING TO BE LATE! GRAB YOUR BAG! YOUR BAG! YOUR BAG! BAG! PICK IT UP!”

7:50: Boy #2 manages to walk to the car without a limp. He’s healed!

7:55: Tires squealing, I tear into the school parking lot. “Hurry up! I’m pretty sure you’re tardy!” I tell the boys as they tumble out of the van. Of course, I also have to throw in, “I love you! Have a great day!” to try to make up for the horrible start we’ve had. It feels just a wee bit fake, but I go with it anyway. Tires again squealing, I peel out of the school parking lot, wondering which day I’ll receive the next letter in the mail scolding me for my children’s tardies.

8:00: I pull back into my driveway, breathe in the silence, and contemplate cracking open a beer for breakfast.

Photo by klarrisa

10 thoughts on “Oh What a Beautiful Morning…”

  1. I am SO glad I’m not the only one with mornings like this! Pleasant mornings are few and far between at our house and unfortunately I am NOT a morning person; which I’m sure just makes things worse!

  2. from the looks & attitudes of the ones I get thru the door before yours are even stirring, I think its probably pretty normal. feel free to ‘remind’ them how lucky they are to get to sleep as late as they do b/c ALL of my bigs are here b4 7 & sitting to eat promptly & there is NO more milk 😉

  3. Sounds like our norm too. It’s a refreshing, exhilarating and rewarding way to start each day, isn’t it? I usually get “you’re the meanest mom in the world” too. Yeah, baby! I don’t strive to just be one of the mean ones, I’ve worked long and hard for the crown of thee meanest!!
    Susan´s last blog post ..Treasure

  4. My kids called me a ‘Mean Mama’. Good to know that motherhood is STILL getting bad reviews…

  5. Yep…sounds exactly like my morning. Oh and thanks for the line…”Oh, yes, it’s our school’s “fun night” tomorrow, which is, ironically, in no way fun for the parents.”…that made me laugh out loud!

  6. No wonder you’re crazed- I am in awe that you can the boys out of bed and out the door in 30 minutes! They would HATE me as I turn on lights and remove Brenna from bed at 6:45am. Any later than that and my head just might explode…

  7. Paula, our kid is just the same, won’t go to bed, won’t get up.
    My wife has a terrible time every morning 😉

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