Cereal in a mug type of morning
I lied. Thursdays are not the only crazy mornings. Most mornings are and I have a serious case of denial. This morning was an average morning. Woke up at 5:30 and started meditating at 6am. 3 year old wakes up at 6:15am and I’m so grateful when I hear him going downstairs to find his best brother, who fell asleep on the couch last night. I drag myself out of bed around 7:20. Kid 2 has already started the pancakes- an egg and vanilla in a bowl… I had no choice but to finish it. Kid 1 not waking up and a disadvantage of kid 2 sleeping on couch is that kid 1 actually sleeps in his bed. It’s much harder to be in his face about waking up when he’s sleeping upstairs and I’m making pancakes.
Kid 3 wants to help with pancakes so he plants a stool literally on top of me. Kid 2 thinks it’s a good time to scare kid 3 so kid 3 is screaming bloody murder. I don’t do loud noises, especially in the morning. It’s a sensory thing. I get confused and shut down and can’t function or make pancakes. I tell kid 2 to please go further and further back till we start a nice negative morning routine. I’m hyper critical and trying to do the 80% positive to 20% negative parenting thing and I’m failing miserably. I then tell him to change his shirt as he slept in it and had a nose bleed on it. Kid 2 can dig his heels in, so he did.. especially after all my negativity.
There’s a smell, a really bad kind in the kitchen. I narrow it down to a rotting potato in this swampy mushy water at the bottom of the potato bin. I can’t deal. Sensory stuff. I decide to eat something before the gym and settle on cereal and milk, except there is no bowl and I don’t feel like washing any dishes right now as I have to put on gloves, and there’s the dishes smell.. more sensory stuff. I find a clean mug, pour in my granola and thank G-d there’s unspoiled milk.
Kid 1 needs to be driven to school (already 15 minutes late) as it’s raining and he can’t bike. I drop him and return to find out that kid 2 went off to school with a blood splattered slept in shirt. I texted his teacher to please give him a hard time about it. #passiveagressivemom
Kid 3 informs me that under no condition is he going to Morah (teacher) today. He fights about getting dressed so I pack up his clothes in a bag. I then pack up his snacks, lunch and have my strong husband carry him to the car. He complained the whole way that no one plays with him at school. I did my best to do the empathy thing. I then suggested that he play with Eli. He told me he doesn’t want to. Same for all his other friends. He disembarked with little complaints and I am a free woman. I don’t “work” on Mondays.
I park in the gym and I walk through the rain and am staring at the grey sky having a speechless moment with G-d. An old man looks at me and misunderstands the situation. “You’re not going to melt,” he quips. “I might be the wicked witch of the west,” is my unflinching response. “Looks can be very deceiving!” I thank him for holding the door and wish him a good day.