I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends (and perhaps a margarita)

My first communication with someone over the age of 11 occurred just after eight this morning in the form of a text message, a sort of SOS, sent out to a treasured friend.  It read:

"I think you might be able relate to the following: Someday. 

Someday I would like to know what it is like to just

get up and go to work.  No whining, arguing, yelling,

apologizing, bargaining, you name it...."

To which treasured friend replied, "Preach it!" 

We went on to further lament the fact that no morning person (such as ourselves) should be able to give birth to a non-morning person.  It's just not right.   Honestly, what good does it do me to get up an hour before my kids, be perky and happy and then to have them shut me down the minute they open their eyes, and more importantly their cute little mouths.  This morning I (we, if you include McKenna who is the only other morning person home with me) endured the following list of atrocities before 7:15 -- set to the sounds of whining and crying:

1. the wrong socks (Kinley)

2. a collared shirt (Cooper)

3. the wrong socks (Kinley)

4. a packed lunch with an insufficient amount of added sugar, preservatives and sodium (Cooper & Kinley)

5. the wrong size pancakes (Kinley)

6. hair that swings (aka French braids) REALLY? Is that even a thing?

7. the wrong socks

I'm beginning to detect a pattern here.  The pattern continues with me screaming at everyone because now we are running late, while listening to crying (because I still have yet to find the right socks).   It ends with me trying my best to apologize, while not condoning behavior, because this is the only hour I have with them until I get home at 8pm and tuck them into bed.  

I HATE MORNINGS LIKE THIS.  I hate telling them I love them as they get out of the car, and wondering if they even believe me after the antics that have occurred in the past 45 minutes.  I wonder if they will think of me all day and think what crazy person I am.  I wonder why we can't just enjoy an hour together - our only hour today.

I wonder if they know that I'm sorry for rushing them, nagging them, yelling at them, trying to get them to complete a few simple tasks.   And so I write them notes and buy them special cookies.  It's probably the wrong thing to do, but on days like today I don't even have the emotional strength left to know what the right thing is.  I just know that I love those three with my whole heart and I want them to be responsible, happy, well adjusted kids who know that their momma loves them.  Okay, and I secretly wish, just a little bit, that they were all morning people who could tolerate an average pair of socks.   The end.

If there is a silver lining it's a couple of smiles from said aforementioned treasured friend, Megan, because if anything we are all in this together right now.  Her list may have looked a little different than mine, though probably not much, but the struggles are the same.    So I am thankful for the invention of the smart phone and texting which continues to allow me some degree of sanity and a friend to keep me off the ledge.   Now if I can just find the right socks.