They always suggest waking up before the kids for a touch of tranquility and a moment to gather your thoughts. You know, just a little slice of peace before the day kicks into high gear. But honestly? Unless I’m willing to rise at the crack of dawn—5:14 AM to be exact—I’ll take those extra Z’s over a fleeting 10 minutes of solitude. My children possess some uncanny “she’s-awake radar,” ready to demand things the moment I stir. At that hour, I’m definitely not prepared for their morning requests.
So, I maximize my sleep. When they do finally rise, it’s never a gentle transition. Typically, it starts with a poke in the eye (thanks for that), a sudden kick in the back (if you’re sneaking into my bed, could you at least be a bit more graceful?), or the wailing of a child (please, just give me 10 more minutes!).
Nope, my wake-up call isn’t subtle. It’s a full-blown announcement: “MOM, WE’RE UP AND WE NEED THINGS!”
And oh, the things. With a resounding emphasis on that “s.”
“Okay, let me just brush my teee…”
“No, Mom! My SOCK! It’s all wrong, fix it!”
“Alright, let me just hop in the showe…”
“MOM! Where’s my SHIRT?! Is it clean? Where is it?!”
“Scratch that, let me just splash some water on my fa…”
“MOOOOMMMY! My show isn’t working, and I neeeeeed lunch!”
You mean breakfast, but whatever. Let me just find my yoga pa—
“MOM! The baby dumped cereal everywhere, and the dog is eating it. Hurry up!”
And it never stops. It continues with relentless demands until…
“EVERYONE JUST STOP! Just stop whining about your sock, stop screaming that we’ll be late, and for heaven’s sake, STOP SPILLING THINGS! What is that smell?! Did you really have to poop right after I bundled you all up and exactly 30 seconds before we need to leave?! EVERYONE, JUST STOP!”
“But, Mom…”
“WHAT?!”
“My sock?”
“I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR SOCK! Either fix it yourself or grab a new one!”
Cue the tears, the melodrama, and the inevitable thoughts of why mornings always turn into chaos. This ends with a lecture about managing expectations on the way to the bus stop, a quick peck goodbye, and then… the familiar pit in my stomach as the bus rolls away. That gut-wrenching bus stop guilt hits every single time. Your eyes are pleading, “I love you and I’m sorry!” while your mind races, hoping they know it too.
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In summary, mornings in motherhood often resemble a chaotic whirlwind of demands and unexpected surprises, leaving you with a blend of love and exasperation. But through it all, there’s an underlying bond that reminds us why we cherish these moments.
Keyphrase: Morning chaos of motherhood
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