Most mornings with the boys go smoothly.
Then there are mornings like yesterday, when I was so unhinged by the time we needed to leave to get Lucas to school that it was only when I was nearly to the car that I realized I was so cold because I was only wearing my t-shirt and capris. No sweater. Also no shoes.
In my defense, I had just spent about five minutes trying to get Maxwell into his shoes.
And I thought, “Lucas can’t be late to school.” So I just went ahead and got in the car, and we all buckled up and left. I may have forgotten my shoes, but I had my coffee, Lucas wasn’t late, and Maxwell was blessedly quiet for almost an entire half hour while we drove and listened to music.
Some days, that half hour of music in the car with Maxwell is exactly what I need to carry on with the rest of the day.
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When I graduated, I moved in with my sister.
I remember mornings with in the car with both my sister and I on the way to work, shoving Cheerios in a baggie or toast at my niece who was on her way to daycare… just trying to get everyone where they were going without anyone imploding.
And then I look back and can’t believe that all of the “where are your shoes, nooo, I don’t want to put on shoes” rigmarole was SO. LONG. AGO. My niece is now twenty-two, as of this summer.
Aaaaack!
22! It’s hard to imagine Lucas and Max being adults, although certainly that’s what we’re trying to grow them into.
I sort of feel like this most days.
I don’t know if there is a good word to describe “that” feeling.
I kind of like discombobulated, but mostly because it’s fun to say.
I also like the word “discombobulated.”
I feel like when the boys are around, my brain becomes disorganized because I never have a minute or two of quiet to organize my thoughts.
Yes.
I always sit with the kids, but I’ll often eat lunch after they do just so I can have 10 minutes to sit in quiet.
If I don’t pack their lunches the night before, things go VERY BADLY. ‘Cause, really, it’s a very challenging thing you write of here, this Getting Them Out the Door. Throw in feeling super grumpy in the mornings (even the yellow kitchen walls don’t help sometimes), which I just do (it’s in my constitution, I’ve come to accept), and so having to pack two lunches before coffee feels like the most insurmountable task somehow. Which, of course, it isn’t.
When I read your “but I had my coffee,” I thought, “well, all ended up okay.”
I try to make sure a few things are done the night before to help the morning go smoothly for this very reason, Jules. Otherwise things become unpleasant.