I hate waking up early in the morning. If I had it my way I wouldn’t wake up until I was completely ready and then my housekeeper would tiptoe in with a tray of hot cocoa and pastries. I would then read in my bed until I was ready to face the day.
Unfortunately I don’t have a housekeeper and I seem to be the person most able, in my house, to get out of bed in the morning. Because of this most of the morning prodding tends to be my job. Let me tell you how this morning went:
I’m dreaming a bizarre dream about my neighbor taking me to a fabulous cowboy store/restaurant when I’m so rudely awakened by the sound of a nasty alarm. Slam! I hit the snooze button and I am at peace once again. 20 seconds later (ok, it’s really 9 minutes later) the nasty alarm pushes its way into my dreams again. Buzz! Slam! Peace. Buzz! Slam! Ok Kristen you really have to get up now.
I drag my lazy carcass out of bed and begin the morning wake up calls. “Honey, it’s time to get up,” I whisper. My second born rises up like a zombie crawling out of the grave.
I shuffle to my firstborn’s room and quietly say, “It’s time to get up and get ready for school.” There is no movement. I say more loudly, “Hey, it’s time to get up!” She is a little unpredictable and some days she will go back to sleep when I leave the room. Today she is a trooper and finishes her morning rituals on time.
Child number two gives me fits this morning. She can’t find her backpack, or she can’t find the right socks. She is also a little bit weepy and whiney today. It’s not a good morning for this routine because we got up a little late and to our surprise the school bus has arrived early. I send the first child off to the bus and resign myself to the fact that I’m going to have drive my second born to school once we find the elusive socks. I hate driving my kids to school because the traffic is horrible.
Luckily we find the socks quickly and as we’re getting ready to head out the door I notice that the school bus is still waiting at the stop. I start shouting to my daughter, “Hurry! Your bus is still here and you’re getting on it!”
We run over to the fence and I hoist her up. She looks at me and says, “Mom, it’s too far down. I can’t do it.”
I then scale the fence, grab her by the arms, and lower her down the other side. After she is safely down she starts to meander towards the bus. I start shouting, “Run!” I continue to scream that to her whenever she looks like she might be slowing down. She makes it on to the bus and heads off to school.
I look down at myself and realize that I’m standing on a 10 foot fence, in my pajamas, with bed head, screaming “Run!” in front of a line of commuters heading for work. I wonder what the topic of the next HOA meeting will be.
I don’t care; I’d do it all over again to get that kid on the bus!