January 13 05

Okay, the first problem is that my children have somehow forgotten what sleep is. Emily was in our room before 5 i think it was…i was far too unconscious to check the clock accurately. she was asking for breakfast…for tv…you name it. we actually put our feet down and said no. a little while later, after Emily had fallen asleep on my left side (and with my husband asleep on my right side…i was left clausterphobic in my own bed….grrrr…), joshie awoke at 6:15 screaming for Mommy. Gav turned down the monitor because it was absolutely killing me, but he refused to take him out of bed until 6:30 (when he got up to shower).

joshie was put in my bed, and off Gav went to shower. “milky. milky. i want milky.” Yes, Joshie. “Dora. Dora. Boots-Dora. Dora.” yes, Joshie.

when my husband left just before 7, that’s when all hell broke loose at the Martells. Joshie climbed on top of Emily, who was desperately trying to snuggle with me. See, the second morning problem is that there is only one of me, and two children who don’t like to share. it’s really the only time to day that either of them have ANY interest in me, and they both refuse to budge. so, physical fighting ensues.

“i want cereal.” yes, Emily. “I want cereal.” Yes, Joshie.
my only way to take a shoer at 7:15 is to give them cereal in my bed. which i hate to do. crumbs everywhere. but, otherwise, a shower would be impossible.

mind you, i’m still not able to take a shower like a normal human being. emily always comes in hysterically crying because joshie dumped over her cereal. onto. my. bed. great. and then come the whines: “Joshie hit me. Joshie hurt my leg. Joshie scratched me.”
“Okay, Emily, i’ll be out in a minute. just give me a minute to myself so i can go to work not smelling like a barnyard….” i don’t ask for much…

so, i get out of the shower. then comes the getting dressed fight…my most favorite fight of all. “no mommy, i don’t want to wear this.” “I’m the Mommy, Emily, this is what you are wearing.” so i physically hold her down to get her dressed. Every once in a while i hit it right and pick out an outfit she’s pleased with. i love those days.

finally, it’s 8. time to hand the kids over to jhoanne for 30 minutes of peace to get ready for work. yeah, right. i take them downstairs, then race upstairs to the blow dryer. i’m not up there 2 minutes when i start to hear the pounding. Emily’s come up – obviously something tragic has happened….

where’s my nanny? doesn’t she understand that spending 10 minutes at my door dealing with Emily is not part of the deal? she need to keep her downstairs!

so, i race through the blowdrying and make-up process. get downstairs and RACE out the door, because, naturally, we are late.

  1. I’d have a serious talk with that nanny. Not looking forward to all this drama with my little one. At five months the only drama now is why is she waking up at 4 a.m. for food (the absolute only thing that will stop he incessant crying) when just a few weeks ago she was sleeping blissfully through the night?

    Comment by Sean on January 13, 2005
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    Trackback by Vicodin. on March 13, 2008

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