This morning has been an adventure, and it's only 7:10. (Well, it was 7:10 when I started this, now it's 8:03. I've had a few interruptions.) Here is a top ten list for the first few hours of Thursday, April 8, 2010.
10: Very fat cat jumping on head at 5:36 a.m. to be petted. Such early morning fun.
9: Already being awake when alarm goes off at 5:45. At least the obese cat is a little less jarring than the BEEP BEEP of the morning torture device. But only because he's soft and purrs. He's harder to snooze though.
8: Herding children out of bed. Kid B's bus comes at 6:20ish. Picture a large man-child who doesn't want to get out of bed, and me pushing him out by bracing myself against the wall and using my legs to force his giant body onto the floor. And while I'm getting a free lower body workout, he's muttering, "Mom. Don't. It's my day off." He thinks everyday is his day off.
7: Me wondering, When is my day off? This is an ongoing occurrence.
6: Making breakfast for kid D, only to have her turn a spoiled nose up at it and pout for forty-five minutes about how hungry she was. Grrr.
5: Me breaking down and making blueberry muffins. From scratch. Followed by a fresh batch of bread. From scratch. Did I mention it was from scratch? And no, this is not a daily thing, just in case you were starting to have delusions about how awesome I am. I convinced myself the muffins were more for me than kid D. That way I'm not spoiling her right?
4: Hot blueberry muffins. What more can be said?
3: The sweet sound of buses driving away, and then the lack of sound in my house. Me eating another muffin while typing.
2: Laundry. Way worse than muffins. Seriously, how many clothes can a family of six dirty in one day? I think we have dirty clothes goblins who come out at night and rub clean clothes in the muck. And, yes, I have muck. But don't tell anyone. Shhh.
1: Sitting down to work on my novel. Ahh. Such bliss. And what is this? Sniff, sniff. Bread? Fresh out of the oven? Why yes, I'll take a slice or two.
Thinking of my morning brought back a memory from my childhood. I was in high school and our bus came very early. Like 5:30 early. Yes, feel sorry for me. I do, but feel more sorry for my parents. I do now.
But on this particular winter morning I ran late and didn't get time to eat the hot breakfast my mom fixed EVERY morning. And yes, you can think she was awesome because she was, and is. Anyway, the bus came. I ran out, dropped my books on the second step, stared the bus driver in the eye, and told him I'd forgotten something.
He, being a nice and patient man, just nodded.
I ran back to my house, dished myself up a big bowl of food, grabbed a glass of milk, and ran back to the bus with my bounty.
I don't think the bus driver was very happy with me, but my stomach was. He he.