Always Running out of time…

I don’t think I need a lesson in time management. I really don’t. I budget my time, allow for mishaps and whatnots and still, we never have enough time. Admittedly, I do much better on my own than when burdened with three people below four feet, but still. Take today, for example. I am up at 5:oo am. This was partially by choice. A headache got me up and out of bed and then I decided to stay up so I could get some stuff done before school. I had to run a load of washing because when I went to pull out Christopher’s clothes for today (he wears a uniform) he had no clean beige shorts. (With tempurates in the high 80’s I am not sending my kid into school in long pants.) Sure, I could have washed everything last night, but at 9:00pm I needed a little bit of down time. This brings me to this morning.

At 5:00 I turn on the coffee maker which automatically goes off at 5:30 but I didn’t want to wait that long. So while it is brewing I head up to take a shower. If I wait much longer I will wake the baby. The shower feels nice and is a rare treat these days. But blasted, I can not find the new conditioner I just got so I will have to do without. I dry off, moisturize, toss on the nightshirt I was wearing and head back down for my coffee. Only I get distracted because I remember that I have to wash Christopher’s clothes. But I have to empty both the washer and the dryer first… eventually another dirty load gets tossed in and turned on. I try to find the white shorts I folded last night and somehow they have disappeared. This happens all the time in our house. I wish the little ghosts and gobblins pulling their little jokes on me would just quit it. I head back up to the kitchen empty handed. I grab my coffee and tiptoe up the stairs. Ahhh, it’s nice and quiet and I hope to rest for a minute. But no such luck. It is now 5:55 and Alexander is hollering from across the hallway. So much for a relaxing morning. Rebecca is up too. Sure, why don’t we just have a party! Grrrr. We all go downstairs and I decide to be a good mom for once and make something for breakfast. I make a pumpkin apple cider bread and toss it in the oven. I have doubled the recipe and forgot to double the cooking time. Meantime Christopher is up now too. I say up because he is certainly not awake. I run up (sneak up!) so that I can get dressed without 3 kids interupting me and straighten up the kids rooms. Their beds are all made, but since the house is on the market it has to (in my opinion) always look perfect. Now we are back downstairs and it is almost 8:00. How on earth is this possible? I just got up? it was only just 5:00am… nevermind… Alexander needs to get dressed but he’s off hiding in a corner working on something, his little face reddening, mini grunts escaping… Christopher is still on the couch despite my incessant nagging telling him that he must get dressed. Finally, I threaten not to take him to soccer practice tonight and he jumps up faster than you can say Pele! Rebecca is freaking out (and I mean littereally) because she can not find a shirt to wear with her uniform. Great, T -20 to take off and my kid has no shirt. We go up to look through her shirt drawer together. Oh, BIG MISTAKE… I toss out the shirts wich are no longer shirts but balls of wrinkled cotton and break out in to a song and dance that she should learn to be tidy and neat and take care of her clothes. I certainly did at her age… (Yeah Right!!!)

Back down to the beasement I go and tear through (good thing sloppy- almost-nine-year-old can not see me now!) 5 laundry baskets and find one lowly cotton, collared school shirt. HALLELUJAH! I run upstairs… it’s a race against the clock at this point. Kitchen timer goes off… and out comes the pumpkin cider bread (in a bundt pan so we have to let it cool a few minutes before trying to pry it out of the pan) and I scream (I mean really, scream) at Christopher who is standing in the family room trying to blow a sock up like a balloon… (no, it is not working) He needs his nebulizer. (But this is not why the sock won’t blow up.) Ok, he’s settled. Now to get Rebecca and Alexander their breakfast… It suddenly hits me that I have to pee… badly… get the kids settled with food and drink, skip the napkins and run off to the Loo because if I don’t now it cours be hours to go before I pee, hours to go before I pee…
T -1 minute… all three need to brush their teeth and Christopher is just sitting down to breakfast. Alexander needs to get dressed still and is fighting me with the buttons on his shirt. Becca’s got her shoes on. Alexander is dressed and his sandals are on. Christopher is still eating. I am checking my emails… what else am I going to do? Finally Christopher is done. I shoo him off to brush his teeth and Don bellows to me from upstairs… we are talking about my new cellphone, which warrants an entire blog entry of its own, and now the kids are all ready but I am not because I am talking to Don and they are yelling at me in the entryway. Finally Rebecca takes my keys and heads to the car with C and A and helps the baby into his car seat. By this time we are already 5 minutes late. The older two continue to yell at me from the back and this is just one of those times I had one of those plexiglass dividers you find in taxis. We live just up the hill from school and we are the last to get there, or so it seems. Now, in the parking lot I shoo the kids off. But they stand there, their feet cemented to the ground. I tell them to get a move on and we walk through the side doors at 8:45 am, precicely 15 minutes late. Luckily it is Assembly day and the kids, teachers, administrators are headed into the gym. We slip in silently with everyone else.

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5 thoughts on “Always Running out of time…

  1. Yowzas. I don’t know where 5am turned into 8am, but man, you are busy.
    I won’t tell you about how the Kidlet and I crawled out of bed at 9am…

  2. Thank goodness for Assembly Day. That is the worst when you just sit down to relax for 5 minutes and they immediately wakeup. Like the sound of your butt hitting the couch is their silent alarm.

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