No noteworthy morning ever started without a little backstory evening, so say you’ve all had colds since the day after Christmas, but your husband’s cold is different. It is a man cold. He is sound asleep before 7 p.m. He did bathe one of the babies before he crashes, and both babies are in bed by 6:45 (winter break and having two energetic 6-year-olds home all day was hard on them). Anyway, you take advantage of the solitude and finish up the dishes, take out the trash, put away some laundry, and watch some home renovations on TV. At 10, you decide to call it a night and put the dogs downstairs. That is when the baby girl wakes up. While feeding her, you become engrossed in one last show. So, bedtime do-over at 11.
At two a.m. and 3:15 a.m. there is chatter from the babies’ room, but thankfully they both simmer down on their own, just not before they wake you up. Around four a.m., the husband’s phone rings with a security alert from work. At 4:15 a.m., the husband’s alarm goes off. At this point, you will resort to elbowing his ribs while demanding to know why this is your life. At 4:40, another alarm goes off, and you ask just what on God’s green earth he is doing. He mumbles indignantly that he doesn’t have to go in early today. What? Then why are the alarms going off? Oh, it’s cool, he forgot to reset them. That’ll give you your sleep back.
That brings us to 5 a.m. when you have finally fallen back asleep for a blissful five minutes when you sense something is near you. It is your sweet, non-demonstrative husband kneeling beside you and kissing your forehead, telling you he loves you before he leaves. If your brain had recharged properly, this would be wonderful. But it isn’t, so instead of relishing the moment, you blurt out “Don’t wake me up again.” The last thing you hear as you fade back out is “Sorry, I just wanted to say I love you.” You are vaguely aware of the door closing as he leaves around 5:30.
At 5:40, you hear one baby cooing. It’s only a matter of time now. You pray to the sleep gods that they are just gassy and will fall back asleep. You know in your heart this is not the case. So at 5:50 you roll out of bed, tiptoe past the stairs to the older girls’ room, turn on the oven and make a bottle. By six a.m., the cooing has turned to fussing and the second one is now awake. So you grab the louder one and hope that they chug before the second one gets too upset. After the bottle, it’s a quick diaper change and into the swing he goes. As you emerge with the second baby at 6:25, you hear footsteps on the stairs. Another bottle and diaper done, and it’s time to make breakfast. Today’s venture is a grain-free orange coffee cake that you dreamed up last night. As that goes into the oven, both babies decide they are still hungry. You make up ten more oz. They drain it. That is 26 oz of formula gone by 7 a.m. And judging from the smell, you can now add another diaper change to your list. Now is when you can get them dressed.
At 7:15, you get two long blond heads tamed and braided. Which takes you to 7:30 when the coffee cake is done. Serve it up warm and while you eat yours, scoop mushy bits of banana into two toothless, drooling, still hungry mouths with your other hand.
Congratulations, you’ve made it to 7:45, you are covered in banana goobers, and it is time to bundle up. This is when you think to look out front and see that you did, in fact, forget to put the van in the garage last night. When you run out to start it, you discover it is snowing. Perfect.
While the 6-year-olds get on boots, snow pants, coats, gloves, hats, and scarves, you pack two lunches. Remind them to pack tennis shoes for PE today – help one of them find tennis shoes – get both babies bundled into their car seats. Glance down at yourself: yoga capris, striped Henley, dress flats, fleece zip-up. You nailed it, you trendsetter. Out the door at 8:05.
Return home at 8:15 and decide to run to the store since both babies are sleeping in their car seats. Change into some skinny jeans, your outfit now makes some sense, right? Hair goes back with a few bobby pins. A little foundation to cover the under-eye circles – reach for the bronzer and fumble with it as you open it. Your bronzer shatters and crumbles into golden fairy dust on the bathroom tile. But there is still a chunk big enough to dab a brush on, so you are back in the game. Now for some eyeliner. You have four shades of eyeliner, yet the only one that seems to be in your makeup bag is “nude eyes”. Thanks, makeup, but I already have those – that is what I am trying to remedy. Fine, you are too smart to go down easy. Just grab that shadow brush and use a dark shadow instead – whoops, you just dropped the shadow brush in the toilet. Grab it out, toss it in the sink, wash those hands, grab another brush and go. Pick up your phone to text your husband to see if he needs anything from the store. Just kidding, your phone is dead.
Now that it is 8:30, the kids are at school, and you are presentable, you have the babies and your purse in the van, this is when you realize you have zero energy or desire to go to the store. Drive halfway around the block and turn down the alley to park in the garage. When you close the garage door behind you, it wakes both babies.
I think we can all conclude that the moral of this story is: not only are the kids all fed, dressed, and where they need to be, but you are wearing makeup, and your hair is done. See, it’s all in how you look at it.
Your morning has been a laundry list of successes. You should go blog about that.
Haley is the mother of two sets of twins, wife, gluten-free baker, and an organizational and healthful lifestyle enthusiast. She loves sharing her outlook on life and her family’s adventures through laughter as they explore all things food, tackle obstacles big and small, and seek to create their own happiness and health. Follow her attempt to find balance in a world of multiple multiples, or at least read the events that may lead to her death while trying. Follow Haley on her blog, I Should Blog About That.
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