15 Minutes Behind Schedule

This morning was definitely a Monday.

Scott came home yesterday after a successful hunt -- he and his brothers, father, nephews, and a few old coots party hunt in the southern part of the state.  I think maybe 10 people go?  Something like that.  Anyway, the first night down there they eat at some restaurant where prime rib is served and every year he ends up in digestive distress from it.  Poor guy!  They brought home four deer, so it wasn't a great hunt.  Unless you are Scott and got two of the deer, one while borrowing your brother's shotgun because the firing pin in yours wasn't working.

The kids and I were very glad to have him home, yay!  He missed the first snowfall -- about 2 inches of soft, white snow.  Pregnant mama decided she wasn't interested in shoveling the walk, so that didn't get done.  Oh, well...

Pregnant mama also has a cold.  It's not a very bad one, mostly some out-of-control nasal congestion.  But when all you can do for that is drink a bunch of water and wear Vicks Vapo-rub to bed, you don't get very restful sleep.  The last three nights, I'll sleep soundly until the first bathroom break, then I toss and turn and wake with my mouth all dry and fuzzy and my nose completely plugged shut.  So I drink water, which makes me have to pee again and the cycle repeats for five hours until the alarm goes off.  Sigh...  I finally got a little rest sleeping sitting up, propped by five pillows.  Maybe if I start the night that way I won't end up with a mouth so dry my tongue sticks to my teeth.

After that wonderful night's sleep, I creak down the stairs slowly to discover that one dog has pooped on the floor and the other has puked on the floor.  I lit a bunch of candles and chose to clean up the puke as it was mostly phlegm and not nearly as stinky as the poop.  Milo comes down the stairs, cute as can be in his waaaay too big snowman pajamas.  "Mom!  Don't you know what size I wear??"  Well, yes, dear. The problem is you wear a size 6, which is almost always paired with a 7 and NOT a 5.  So your size 6 pajamas are closer to a size 7.  Just pull them up to your armpits -- no one can see because she shirt comes down to your knees.

Scott finally comes down and cleans up the dog poo while I make my cereal (15 minutes late) and the get the kids' milk.  I eat as quickly as one can when trying to eat shredded wheat on a sore throat and hop into the shower as Scott heads upstairs to wake Princess Sleepyhead.  I get out of the shower and stick my head out of the bathroom because one of the kids is yelling something to Scott.  I figure when I don't hear an adult male voice, he's going outside to start the car or let the chickens out.  But nope.  Apparently he was still having digestive distress from the prime rib or something, because he was in the other bathroom.  And Milo was dressed, but Violet was not.  And we're 15 minutes behind schedule by this point.  D'oh!

I dash upstairs to get dressed, thinking, "I'd better wear my snowboots."

Wait a minute -- so should Milo.  And he should pack his snowpants.  Neither of which have been labeled yet.  Neither of which have had the tags cut off yet.  And we're 15 minutes behind schedule.  Thank goodness Scott had the same idea because when I cam flying down the stairs, he was holding Milo's boots and a Sharpie, trying to figure out where to put his name.  I hand him the snowpants, too and order the kids into their coats.

Naturally, as soon as Violet sees the snowpants, she needs hers, too.  Fortunately, Scott is able to distract her with a handful of trail mix.  One of his hands full, which means both of her hands are full of trail mix and she's not in her coat, but demanding to wear her mittens.  So we scrape the trail mix off of her little hands and get her into her coat.  I hand her the mittens as I hear Milo head out of the house.  Then I hear her following me as I run for my coat in the opposite direction of out of the house.  "No!  Other way, Violet!"

"But my mittens!  I'm cold!"

"Daddy -- have daddy help you with your mittens, mommy doesn't even have her coat on!"

She sighs audibly (when did I start raising a pint-sized Marge Simpson?) and trudges to the door, where daddy is waiting and helps her with her purple mittens.  Kids are in the car and somehow we've made up five minutes, so we're only ten minutes late at this point.

Thankfully, the roads aren't bad and I get into town about as fast as normal.  Drop Violet off and pick up the sitter's youngest, get to school where we're late enough that the crossing guard has abandoned her post, but the drop-off line is still almost a block long.  Usher the boys across the street and into the school where I help Milo out of his new boots and into his shoes and leave before the bell rings.  That was about as close as we've ever been to being late, but we made it, whew!

This was so NOT the way I wanted to start this work week.  Really, it wasn't.  Deep breaths, mama...

My Mornings, before and after kids...

This is actually a repost from a mommy board to which I belong -- one of our witty members wanted a compare and contrast post about what our morning routine looks like now and what it looked like before kids.

OK this will look like a train wreck, but I'll post what I did this morning -- which was extra ugly because Scott's out of town...

Now

12:30 am: hear Violet over the monitor, "Mommy! I'm cold..." Stumble into her room with one eye open and pull up her covers. Pat her back for a minute, hoping she doesn't fully wake and want to nurse. Pull up the blankets on the snoring boy, too. Back to bed.

5:50 am: Hear Violet over the monitor, "Mommy! Mommy! I awake! I want to nurse in the chair..." She says this sixteen times, so I switch off the alarm and stumble into her bedroom, where a bewildered Milo looks at me. He says he has to go potty, so I tell him, "OK. Go potty, but then come back to bed because it's the middle of the night." Amazingly, he does and is sleeping again before his head hits the pillow. Nurse Violet on right side for ten minutes -- she's got a stuffed up nose, so she slurps four or five times, then breathes through her mouth. I don't hear any swallowing, so I don't think she's even getting that much milk.

6:00 am: Violet wants to switch sides. More slurp, breathe, slurp, breathe. I have to frickin' pee now and I can hear the dogs getting restless downstairs, jangling their collars and dancing at the bottom of the steps. I am concerned as I went to bed early last night and they didn't go out at 11:15 like normal, so I envision huge piles of shit on the floor...

6:20 am: unsuccessfully try to put Violet back to bed. Resentment toward Scott building as I still have to pee and can't get Violet back down. Dogs still dancing, but now one is whining, too. Decide to get up with Violet and bring her downstairs. Tell her this and she squeals, I shush her so that she doesn't wake Milo. Thank goodness that kid can sleep through a tornado.

6:22 am: Set Violet down so I can get the dogs on their tie outs. One cooperates, the other can't figure out how to walk around my ass to get to the door. Sigh.

6:23 am: Dogs finally out. Take Violet to family room and flip on Playhouse Disney. Still have to pee.

6:24 am: Violet asks for milk. I get milk and peek out at dogs. Neither of them eating shit, yay!

6:25 am: Give Violet her milk. Flip on coffeemaker -- I prepped it last night, yay me!

6:26 am: Pee, finally! Collect urine in OPK cup, dip strip. Still positive! That means baby-makin' sex tonight!

6:28 am: Get dogs back in house. Naturally, one has stepped in shit, so I scrub her stinky-ass paws. At least they weren't eating it this morning... Pour coffee

6:35 am: Snuggle Violet on the couch. Milo's still snoring away. Drink coffee.

6:48 am: Tell Violet, "I'll be right back!" and bolt for the shower. Shower faster than fast.

6:52 am: Doing final rinse on hair when Violet throws open the shower curtain and says, "My want shower, too." Sigh... Unbutton her pajama top, tell her, "OK -- take your jammies and diaper off!"

6:53 am: Ask Violet, "Are you naked yet?"

6:54 am: Ask Violet, "Are you naked yet?"

6:55 am: Ask Violet, "Are you naked yet?" Finally, she is. Pull her into shower. Hold her under the water for about 35 seconds before stopping the tub and letting it fill. I figure she'll play in there long enough for me to get my contacts in and make-up on.

6:58 am: I'm out of shower, Violet is happily splashing in the tub. Dry off, get contacts in, start make-up.

7:08 am: Done with face! Violet is still happy, so I go upstairs and wake Milo. He is in a surprisingly good mood considering that he hates being woken.

7:10 am: Snuggle Milo on couch. Don't worry, I can hear Violet singing and splashing.

7:15 am: Get Milo milk. Offer him breakfast, he refuses, politely.

7:17 am: Get Violet out of tub and dry her off. Stop in family room for diaper, she howls because she wants to go upstairs to get dressed. I carry five diapers upstairs and assure her that she can get dressed upstairs.

7:18 am: Diaper Violet.

7:19 am: Standing in her closet as she decides what to wear today. Luckily, she pick out pants and a shirt that do, indeed, coordinate. The socks, not so much.

7:20 am: Dress Violet as she dances around her room.

7:22 am: Violet really wants to go to my closet to help me pick out clothes, too, but I've already picked them out, just need to take them downstairs to get dressed. Grab clothes I laid out for Milo, leave the ones I had laid out for Violet since her opinion on fashion matters more than mine this morning.

7:25 am: Park Violet on the couch, telling her that I need to get dressed so that I may start the car. She protests. Milo still snuggles on couch under a blanket, looking very much like a mouth-breathing zombie.

7:26 am: Violet starts crying because she wants to come out and start the car, too. I manage to peel her off of my leg long enough to get dressed, but as I do this, she gets her snow boots on and brings me her mittens.

7:28 am: Mousse my hair and slide a headband on.

7:29 am: I'm putting on my shoes and Violet is insisting that I put her mittens on the wrong hand, then gets mad at me when I do. I say, "I give up!" and throw the mittens on the floor. She starts crying a sad little cry and I feel like a heel. I sit on the toilet and snuggle her.

7:31 am: Manage to get Violet back on the couch next to slug-boy and explain to them both that I was going to go start the car, then come in and get Milo dressed, then we were leaving the house. Violet agrees to sit next to the lump that is her brother while I run outside.

7:32 am: I get my coat on, gather the kids snow pants, my purse, Violet's warm mittens, and fling the fridge open to find some left-over to take to work for lunch. Taco meat it is!

7:33 am: Shove my way through the dogs to get to the side door. Open garage, walk to garage (not attached). Slide a bit in the snow because my shoes don't have a whole lot of traction. Get into car, turn it on, back it out, close garage door, unlock all car doors, and get out.

7:35 am: Go inside. Push my way back through dogs and head to family room to get Milo dressed. Surprise! The child who I thought might have been comatose is standing there proudly and fully dressed. I drop to my knees and throw my arms around him, thanking him for being so helpful He is dang proud of himself, and I kiss him a few dozen times.

7:36 am: Using the 90 seconds I gained by Milo getting himself dressed, I pick out jewelry to match my clothes and I feel better about myself instantly.

7:38 am: Get kids into coats, boots, hats and mittens.

7:41 am: Out the door. Realize that my car key has the house key on it, so I'll be running back to the house after the kids are in the car to lock up. Milo climbs into his seat quickly. Violet decides after I have carried her to the car that she wanted to walk, so she starts bawling. I set her down to help Milo get his coat off and into his seat and she walks all the way back to the house. Sigh...

7:43 am: Milo is in his seat, Violet is refusing to come to the car. I sit in the driver's seat long enough to grab my keys out of the ignition, apparently Violet thinks I'm leaving, so she yells, cries and runs for the car. I open her door and tell her to climb up while I lock the house.

7:44 am: Stick my head in the house and tell the dogs to be good. Lock door. Walk back to car and find Violet terrified because she can't climb into the car in her snowboots.

7:45 am: Get Violet's coat off, buckle her in, kiss her a few dozen times.

7:46 am: Buckle self in and reset the "Phineas and Ferb" soundtrack. Drive off down the road.

7:54 am: Arrive at sitter's house in the middle of a song. Sit in the driveway singing and dancing in the car.

7:55 am: Get kids out, coats on, gather snowpants and Violet's warm mittens.

7:57 am: In the sitter's door. Get the kids' winter things off, Violet runs in to play and Milo does his normal "climb mom like jungle gym" thing. Sitter is in a chatty mood, so I chat. She's had a busy morning already, too. Apologize for not feeding kids, but I kept asking and offering food and they refused every time.

8:08 am: Back in the car. More "Phineas and Ferb." I don't even switch it off...

8:10 am: Park car at work, walk to office

8:15 am: Log onto computer, check facebook. Decide to eat taco meat now and figure something else out for lunch.


Then:

7:20 am: Roll out of bed, open door and let dogs out into fenced yard, prop door so they can come back in house when they're done.

7:25 am: Pee, turn on shower.

7:26 am: Shower (uninterrupted)

7:35 am: Make-up, hair, get dressed (also uninterrupted)

7:55 am: Leave for work.

7:58 am: Get to work and start day! On time, even!