There are mornings, and then there are MY mornings. I feel some days like I'm running as hard as I can to keep up with the clock but falling just short of being on time. Is there anything more frustrating?! I desperately need a cup of coffee before I can think clearly and make sure everyone is on time. It is imperative that I creep as quietly as I possibly can into my 9 year old daughter's room because I don't want wake up my 2 year old who shares the room with her. My mission every morning is to get a cup of coffee made and to swallow at least half of it down before my baby girl wakes up. Hah. What is the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result! Alas, most mornings my creeping is in vain. Baby girl wakes up at the slightest creak of the door and is on her feet faster than a microwaved kernel of popcorn. "Hi Mommy! I hun-gy. Git me?" [Sigh] It begins. Will I do it differently tomorrow? Probably not.
I sweep baby out of the crib while coaxing sister out of bed and limp out to the kitchen (because my ankle is sore from an injury that happened a few years ago and it aches every morning). Baby is dropped her into her high chair and I fumble around for a clean bowl to pour cereal into. Meanwhile, my husband and 4 year old son are still asleep, and my son usually wakes up with the mood of a grumpy 80 year old man - I try to keep my baby girl quiet while I start the coffee. (Remember - insanity!) One would think I would remember the auto function, but most days I don't. The water is poured into the machine and I am pulling the coffee bag out of the cabinet when in my peripheral vision appears a blonde-haired boy with an "I want food" look on his face. I put the coffee bag down, fumble around for bowl number two, and pour his cereal. By this time, my 9 year old daughter has entered the kitchen and is chatting mindlessly about her fundraiser and about some kid at school who poured yogurt into her lunch box.. blah blah blah... all I can concentrate on is the coffee pot. It's like drowning and reaching for the life preserver but no one will toss it out to me!! Three out of four are now eating breakfast and I finish preparing the coffee pot. I push the "start" button and feel relief flowing through me. By now baby girl has finished her cereal and is banging her spoon on the tray and clamoring to get "OUT!" In my gut I know it's a bad idea, but I clean her up and let her loose anyway.
Coffee's ready! I pull out my mug, find my favorite creamer, and pour some hot, steamy, creamy goodness. My sanity. My vice. I take a sip. It goes down hot and smooth. I savor it, that first sip of the morning. There's nothing like it. My eyes close briefly as I anticipate sip number two, but my reverie is interrupted by an argument between my son and 9 year old. Something about a cereal box and who had it first, and in the scuffle somehow a bottle of water is spilling out its contents onto the table. Seriously - don't these kids know by now not to provoke me until the first cup of coffee is gone? I grab a towel to sop up the mess while scolding my kids for arguing. In confusion I turn around mid-swipe because I don't see or hear my baby girl. Calling her does no good - I must investigate. She's not in the kitchen, dining room, or living room. Please, Lord, please.. not the bathroom... In the back of my mind I see a flash of my coffee cup on the counter, cooling off fast...
After a thorough sanitizing, I bring baby girl back to the kitchen and give her some juice. Distraction is the key here - I'll be able to finish that first cup of coffee while she drinks her juice. Agh.. it's too cold. Sixty seconds in the microwave will warm it up to near-perfection. I put it in the microwave and mash the buttons, then do a quick check of the kitchen. 9 year old making her lunch, baby girl drinking juice, son crashing up Hot Wheels on the table while he munches on his cereal. I hear doors creaking and water running in the bathroom so I know my oldest is now up and about. Beep! Okay, now a few sips. Not as great as the first, but I take what I can get.
"Mommy!" I hear from my oldest. In the bathroom she is having a breakdown because she has a football game to cheer for this afternoon and she can't get her ponytail right. Again I set my cup down. I spend a few minutes pulling her hair up and smoothing it out, painstakingly combing it against her head because she is obsessed with perfection - if there is a lump she will let me know it. Once her hair is done I check my phone for the actual time (all my clocks are set ahead a few minutes) and realize it's time to drive my 9 year old to school. I run a brush through her hair too, stick a barrette in it, then drag her out the door. Halfway to her school I realize I left my coffee cup on the counter in their bathroom. [Sigh.]
Twenty minutes later I return home and find relative calm. My husband is now up and the two littlest ones are bouncing around on our bed. My oldest is in her room getting her things ready for school. I grab my cup from their bathroom and head for the microwave again.
This over-nuked, pathetic cup of coffee holds a moment of balance and rightness with the world. I finish it, though it has lost that loveliness it possessed earlier this morning. I have high hopes as my second cup is poured and I prepare to sit a moment and ponder my day. My husband calls to me because he needs a shirt ironed. (I do this for him because there are some things I don't do.) Reluctantly, I walk away from a perfectly good cup of coffee.
Tomorrow, in all likelihood, I will do it all over again. But I promise myself that at first opportunity I will go to the coffee shop, purchase a large cup of mocha something, and I will sit in the car with the doors locked until my cup is empty.
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