August 23 06

mornings at the martells have just gone crazy. like, Tom Cruise jumping on the couch crazy.

my nanny starts at 8, and i leave the house at 8:30. so, the shower, the clothing choice, the dressing, the blow-dry, the make-up application, and the lunch preparation (usually, it’s just grabbing a diet pepsi, but something it’s more than that) all need to happen before 8:30. it’s tight. and when i say tight, i mean, it’s not possible to get all of those things done in 30 minutes. not possible.

this week, and for the next little while, the husband is taking the early shift at work. yes, it means that he’s home BEFORE 6, which is absolutely FANTABULOUS. but, having him home early means that he has to leave early too. like butt-crack of dawn kind of early.

in theory this should work fine. the bunnies are all usually up around 7ish. give or take 15-20 minutes. they can crawl into bed and watch tv in my room while i shower and get dressed. if i can manage to get all that done by 8, i’m golden.

in reality, it’s anything by fine.
* they refuse to watch the same things on tv. Joshie wants cartoons. preferably somethign superhero. Emily wants Family. preferably something she’s too young to watch.
* they refuse to share space on my bed. my queen-sized bed should be big enough for my two pint-sized children. kicking, whining, screaming. “Joshie, stop touching me.” “Emily, get away from me. you’re smelly.”
* they refuse to share their sister. they both want to hold her. cue the whines, once again.
* they refuse to hold said sister for more than 3 minutes. which means that she can’t stay on the bed. which means she’s free to roam around my bedroom. which is like a minefield. and i’m being kind, here. my house is clean. my bedroom is a disaster area. scrapbooking stuff everywhere. blanket stuff everywhere. elliptical trainer ripe for climbing, computer wires and stuff. it’s like disneyland for a one-year old.
* they are hungry. starving. “my stomach is starting to eat itself, momma”. so, we have to go downstairs. before 8.

and don’t you think for a second that when 8 o’clock rolls around i can just disappear into my room on my own and have a blissful 30 minutes to myself to blow dry and put on my face. oh, no. within 30 seconds, Emily’s upstairs screaming. Josh’s upstairs looking for something.

so, at 8:30, i grab my bags “kiss and a hug first!” walk out the door “Wait, momma, just one more!” and race out the door. breathe a sigh of relief, plug in my ipod, and relax as i drive to work. and usually it’s around 9:30 when i start wondering what my bunnies are up to.

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