They say it’s best to rise before your kids, you know, for a little peace and quiet—time to gather your thoughts for the day ahead. Sure, that sounds lovely. But unless I’m willing to drag myself out of bed at 5:14 AM, that precious silence isn’t happening. Honestly, I’d much rather catch those extra Z’s than spend a mere ten minutes alone, which would undoubtedly be shattered by the little ones equipped with their uncanny “I-can-tell-when-you’re-awake” radar. If I stir, they’ll know it. And then the demands start pouring in.
So, I choose to snooze as long as possible. When the cacophony of morning begins, it’s hardly a gentle awakening. It usually starts with a poke in the eye (thanks for that!) or a swift kick to the back (seriously, if you’re going to invade my sleep, at least do it gracefully). Sometimes it’s just an unmistakable scream that makes me wish I could hit snooze on life for at least ten more minutes.
Nope, my mornings don’t ease in quietly—they hit like a freight train: “MOM! GET UP! WE NEED STUFF!”
And “stuff” is the operative word here.
Alright, alright, let me just brush my teee… “No, no, Mom! My SOCK! It’s all wrong!”
Okay, how about a quick shower? “MOM!!!! Where’s my SHIRT?! Is it clean? Where. is. my. shirt?!”
Forget that, let me splash some water on my… “MOOOOMMMY!!! My show isn’t working and I neeeeeed lunch!”
You mean breakfast? Never mind, let me just find my yoga pants… “MOM! The baby just dumped cereal all over the floor, and the dog is eating it! Hurry up, Mom!”
And this continues.
And continues.
Until finally, I reach my breaking point: “STOP IT!!! EVERYONE JUST STOPPPP IT!!! Stop stressing over your sock, stop whining about being late, and for the love of all that is holy, stop spilling things! What is that smell? Seriously? Did you have to poop RIGHT AFTER I JUST BUNDLED YOU ALL UP and 30 seconds before we need to leave?! EVERYONE! JUST. STOP!!”
“But, Mom…”
WHAT?!
“My sock?”
I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR DARN SOCK! Either fix it yourself or grab a different pair.
Cue the tears. Cue the melodrama. Cue my inner thoughts spiraling into “Why do our mornings always end like this?”
Then comes the lecture about morning expectations on the way to the bus stop—a classic move. And just before the goodbye, I feel that familiar pit in my stomach as the bus pulls away.
Bus stop guilt, anyone? Your heart screams, “I love you and I’m sorry!” but your mind wonders if they can feel it. Surely they know, right?
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Summary
Mornings in motherhood can feel like an endless whirlwind of demands, from sock meltdowns to cereal catastrophes. The rush to get everyone out the door often leads to a chaotic start, capped off with the bittersweet feeling of goodbye as the bus pulls away. Despite the madness, the love remains strong, even when the mornings seem overwhelming.