On Friday morning, I got to get up and go to work. Doesn’t sound like much of a treat, does it?
It was a delight.
It wasn’t so pleasant because of what it was; it was pleasant for what it wasn’t.
It’s wasn’t getting three kids ready for school. Only Big Brother actually goes to school, but since society might frown on my leaving Buster and New Baby home alone, they all have to get ready to roll.
This is how my morning went, Monday through Thursday:
- Drag Big Brother out of bed by his ankles while he complains about being too tired.
- Two fresh diapers and one “Put on some pants or you’re going to school in your underwear.”
- Distinguish big baby clothes from small toddler clothes.
- Find pairs of nearly matching socks for three boys of different sizes from our box of random floating socks.
- Make the boys breakfast while New Baby attempts to climb up my leg.
- Yell, “Leave him alone and eat your breakfast!”
- Yell, “Leave him alone and eat your breakfast!” another dozen times.
- Be caught off guard because it’s Bring [Specific Object] to School Day and we don’t have [Specific Object].
- Find as many hats and winter coats as children, or as close to it as possible.
“I can’t find my boots.”
- “Put your shoes on.”
- “Well, where are they?”
- “Then go get them and put them on!”
- Back the car out of the garage so door will open wide enough for New Baby’s carrier.
- Come back inside for New Baby. Leave muddy tracks in kitchen. Look at clock. Shrug. Make mental note to prepare for after-work slovenliness scolding.
Getting ready, one wrong foot at a time.
- Field ridiculously detailed questions about German army helmets on drive to school. “I don’t know,” is not an acceptable answer.
- Carry Big Brother’s school bag into school for him because his hands are cold.
- Ask him where his gloves are.
- Be informed that his gloves are at the bottom of the bag you are carrying for him.
- Take three children into school; leave one there; take two back to car.
- Drive to Mommy’s work. Drop children off. Debate confessing about muddy kitchen floor. Decide silence is golden.
- Drive to work. Find last parking spot on roof of structure or move on to more distant ramp with long, cold walk.
- Rush to catch up on work.
- Stay late to compensate for late arrival.
On Friday, my morning went like this:
- Wake up, get dressed, go to work.
- Park in usual, convenient spot. Have a hot bowl of oatmeal at desk and ease into workload.
A little slice of Heaven, Friday morning.
It makes me appreciate my boring routine. I think I like boring.
It makes me appreciate my wife. This week was an aberration. She dances this Morning Tango with the boys most days. She does it better, and she doesn’t get the floor dirty. I might not notice if she did, but I know she doesn’t. It’s not her style. It’s gold to me that she takes such tumult in stride, so her husband can stay happily boring.
It we’re not running too late, we like to fit in a “Don’t play ball in the house!” before school.
Snoozing on the Sofa 
I love your wife and I’m just an innocent bystander in all this, Snoozer. I can tell she’s a great one. You are a lucky man.
She’s one amazing lady, Mark. You couldn’t be more right about me being a lucky man.
So good to hear how much you appreciate your wife and what she does!
What she does is so big and so important, I’d have to be blind to miss it. But being a typical husband, I don’t mention it enough.
Sometimes I don’t think my husband realised what happens in my world when he is not there to see it. So it makes me feel REALLY good to see it noticed and appreciated in someone else’s. And maybe he just doesn’t mention it either 🙂
Sometimes there’s a gap between appreciating and voicing that appreciation out loud. I have that problem myself.
If I had five cents for every time I asked, “Where are your shoes?” I’d be retired.
I got off to a late start on that, but I am certainly catching up.
Sounds like those days when I have to get the kids ready for school without the wife… Who am I kidding. I’m never allowed to look after the kids on my own, for that exact reason.
Everybody has their role in the family unit. I mean, weren’t you the one who taught the kids to swear. That’s an important job too.
I appreciate my two children so much more after reading about a dad who has a box of mismatched floating socks. And believe me, my mornings suck with just the two.
“Leave her/him alone” is my morning mantra, along with several “Why are you naked” for good measure.
We all need to appreciate our children more, before the little darlings grow up and the morning suckiness is just a fond memory – replaced by some other, high school type suckiness.
I imagine the “why are you naked” will take a nastier turn around then.
I know exactly what you mean, I’m due back at work soon after 4 months being a stay at home dad, will welcome the routine to some degree, at least in work I know when the poo is coming my way..lol..
Good luck on your transition back. May you have little grace period from poo.