The Morning Rush

Not being a morning person, I have been surprised to produce two little people who love to leap out of bed and face the world with fervour every morning.  This is very difficult to cope with for those of us who need a somewhat slower start to the morning.

Take this morning, for example.

In my non-morning state, I attempt to wake up the other non-morning person in the house.  I feel so sorry for him and hate waking him because I know just how he feels.  The other two are already dressed and downstairs, singing and making far too much noise.

Breakfast is a tricky affair.  The non-morning boy sits at the table half dressed with his duvet wrapped around him, staring.  The lively littlest boy takes large gulps of his drink to see how long his burps can be.  The oldest boy tells me facts about the history of KFC.  How can their brains actually function first thing?  It's not a pleasant breakfast and although I strive to be cheerful, the best I can manage is listening to them and giving them the odd smile.

After breakfast, I 'race' (think snail) around the house trying to find a clean short-sleeved shirt for now grumpy non-morning boy.  Apparently he hates long-sleeved ones, but all the others are in the wash so I am faced with the living-on-the-edge decision of upsetting him by making him wear a long-sleeved shirt (and therefore scuppering any chance of getting him to do anything else all morning) or giving him a dirty short-sleeved shirt from the bottom of the washing basket.  I'll leave you to imagine which choice I made.

Littlest lively boy is attempting to wash out his lunchbox, although 'wash' is not really an apt description.  'Playing with water' would be better, and water play in the morning before school is not a great idea.  Still, he's happy and not arguing with anyone, even if he is singing 'bogey, bogey, bogey, bogey, bogey'.  So I leave him be.

In the lounge a complicated negotiation over the wii is happening.  I listen for a while to see if they can work it out but when I realise things are going to quickly turn nasty, I intervene.  Unfortunately for me, the result is that 'Just Dance' is played, complete with blaring music.  My non-morning brain is now having a meltdown.

Eventually it is time to leave.  At least, that's what I think.  The boys clearly have other ideas and after I have asked them to put on their shoes a million times (and we have had a small compromise over which shoes will be worn - it's the end of the summer term and my standards are slipping extremely low), we can finally leave the house.

I breathe a sigh of relief.  We have conquered yet another morning.