Morning marathons and piles of sex

I hate Monday mornings. You get up, it’s too early, you’re still tired, and the kids are whiny because it’s a school day IF you can overhear them through your whining that it’s a work day!

Then there’s lunches, daycare drop off, the morning commute and the IV drip of caffeine to keep you going. BY the time I even get to work I’m exhausted!

You should see us in the morning, it would be highly amusing to be a fly on the wall as first I attempt to peel myself out of bed, hitting the snooze button a few times, because I set the alarm for earlier than I actually HAVE to get up. Then realize, crap I’ve passed the time I should get up and tumble out of bed to the bathroom where I sit for a moment and try and remember my name.

Then I shower, change and run around like mad waking up kids, re-waking up kids, yelling at kids to get their butts out of bed, then wrangling clothes onto my giant seven year old son who has the co-ordination of a rock before 7am. Then there is the reminder to the eleven and a half year old to put on deodorant so she doesn’t kill her classmates with her stench, then the reminder to brush her hair, then the reminder to brush her teeth, then the nagging to eat some breakfast, then the re-reminder to put on deodorant.

Then there’s the “No, Logan we don’t have time for bacon” and the mad breakfast rush, the chocolate milk discussion, the lunch cramming into backpacks, the look at the clock and the “HOLY CRAP, we’re late! Move it! Move it! Where at this point everyone and everything slows down to slug speed as I rush around trying to push them out the door to the van, while brushing my teeth, finding socks, yanking the toddler from his warm bed, shoving a cup into his mouth and wrapping him in a blanket, grabbing my purse, lunch and keys while trying to shove my feet into my shoes as I try to beat the house alarm that I’ve already turned on, slam the door closed and belt the toddler into his seat.

Phew, I’m exhausted just writing it down! Speaking of tired, why do alarm clocks even have snooze buttons? It’s a trap people get into, setting their alarm clocks early because they know they can always hit snooze, which they inevitably do but rarely do you get up before the time you have set in your head. My husband can hit the snooze button for a good hour before he gets up or I clock him over the head and tell him to shut off the damned alarm!

I had a fun weekend of folding laundry, since my husband thinks that doing laundry consists of putting it the washer, putting it into the dryer and then dumping on the floor in our bedroom. Men. If he thinks he’s gonna get lucky all week let me tell you, I’ll turn him on, get him hot and then dump him on the floor in our bedroom.

Next to the clean laundry.