It Was Not That Morning

There are mornings that you wake up, realize you actually got a good night's sleep and you're ready for the day.  Though for many of us these mornings are rare, I do love them.  This morning was certainly NOT one of them.  Yes, I said NOT.  Those mornings don't start at 5am.  Mine did.  Those mornings I wake up before the kids do.  This morning I did not.  Those mornings start in quiet.  This morning did not.  Those mornings I feel fresh and awake.  This morning I did not.

After 2 birthday parties, bouncy castles, running around, lots of crap food, and tons of excitement, Kai slept well and did a perfect job attempting to make it one of those mornings for me.  Ryder didn't get the memo and was awake at 5am.  You'd think that being out and about, getting tons of attention and stimulation, fresh air and all other things that make babies tired, he'd sleep longer.  Nope.  Did not happen.  This morning was definitely NOT one of those mornings.

Also, I marvel at the tremendous amount of clutter that was laying around in my house.  The double stroller was functioning as laundry basket with several loads of clean, unfolded laundry piled on it. (At least it was clean!)  The living room mirrored the image of an exploded toy store and our bedroom was filled with a wide variety of items that belonged elsewhere, such as the kids' rooms, the bathroom, the closet, and so on.  So much for a relaxing sanctuary.

I needed my sanity back! (Translation: it's cleaning time).


I hate tidying, yet the result is always nice and soothing.  But, in the process I always wonder: where the heck did all this junk come from?  Who bought this?  Oh wait, I did.  Why did I buy this?  Oh yeah, for the kids.  Sometimes it seems as if the toys multiply over night.  Laundry seems to do the same.  Can it do that?  'Cause it seriously looks like it can.  Oh wait, I live with 3 guys.  Right.  That explains.  Yes it does, because let's face it, it's not my laundry!  Well, maybe a few items.  


Then there is the magical coffee cup that appears every morning on my kitchen counter.  It truly is like magic, given that I DON'T DRINK COFFEE!!!  My beloved husband on the other hand does.  Without his go-water he is nothing.  Absolutely lost in space, no sense of direction (literally and figuratively speaking) and completely incapable of being productive.  So, coffee is his morning ritual.  That's wonderful, after all, we all have our 'must haves' right?  Going back to the cup.  So, here's how it (the cup) works: one fills it with the brown liquid, adds a splash of half 'n half, and puts it to their lips.  The coffee gets ingested and starts doing its job.  (Or so you would think.)  Occasionally, once the cup is empty, it gets refilled, but eventually it always ends up (mostly) empty...on the kitchen counter (or in the sink).  Right above the dishwasher.  Not in the dishwasher, but right above it.  On the counter.  (Sometimes it ends up on the counter in the bathroom.  Result: a bathroom reeking like coffee.  Ugh!)  Doesn't that stuff work?  Maybe it's old.  Maybe I should buy some super-duper-kick-in-the-butt coffee that I am blatantly unaware of.  Would that work better? 


Come to think of it, the mystery of the magical coffee cup, very much resembles the mystery of the magical socks that always end up next to the bed and then slowly migrate under the bed.  (Mind you: I wear flip flops).  I really don't want to go into painting a picture, so I am going to refrain from explaining this one, but with a little bit of imagination you can figure out where I would have gone if I were to continue at this point.

At this point, my laundry is done, folded, (almost all) put away, cup is in the dishwasher, kids are about to wake up from their nap and I need to start cooking dinner (that is, if anyone wants to eat tonight).


Can I just say that I look forward to having one of "those mornings".  They are beautiful and productive.  I need one.