Mornings Aren't for the Weak

A snippet of a morning in our house...

Light knock on the door before I open it. "It's 7:15. Time to get up." Child #1 shows no sign of life.

2nd Bedroom "Bubby. Time to get up." Child number 2 rolls towards me, eyes still closed. "I AM UP."

3RD Bedroom. I don't even get to say anything as my daughter cuts me off "Oh hi, Mom. Can I go to Annie's after school and go and get some new shoes tomorrow. Marci said she doesn't like Nick any more but I thought we could have pizza for dinner on Sunday since my birthday is Wednesday. I might go running in the morning but I need to talk to Mr Summers about my history paper. Do we have any Pop Tarts?"

10 minutes later...
No courtesy knock for child number one. "Son, get up!" I hear faint grumblings and what sounds like a book falling off a bed.

No courtesy knock for #2, either. Just a call. "Bubby. It's 7:30." Again, same defiant response. "I AM UP." Although I can't see him, I know his blanket is up to his chin and his eyes are closed.

No need for 2nd call to #3. She's my Posturpedic Queen. She's happily eating her PopTarts, reading the paper, petting the dog. "Have you ever had a pedicure? I think I'd like one but I have to get some cleats soon. Janie dropped her Ipod down the sewer drain but she's getting another one. Can we go somewhere on Spring Break?"

7:35. I'm pulling out the big guns. I send our toy fox terrier to do the dirty work. She runs up the stairs to #1 and commences to lick his face out of his sleep coma. I hear "Get down, Corky." She leaves his room and immediately runs to the another room to wake up #2. I can faintly hear Bubby responding to her barks and whines and slowly hear him get out of bed. Success!

Meanwhile I hear Posturpedic Queen singing, texting, playing with the dog, yelling at her brother to leave her stuff alone.

7:40. Bubby is at the table, eyes closed, but he is eating breakfast. No word from #1. I make my second climb to his room. He looks at me and give me a thumbs up. I don't know what this means, but I take it as progress. Queenie has appeared in her third set of clothing for the morning.

7:45. Bubby has left a trail of crumbs as he stumbles back upstairs. We may or may not need to check on him. This is the iffy part. He may go back to bed. Wait, I hear him say something to his sister. I won't repeat what he said but communication usually means he's up for good. This is a good sign. Queenie is looking for an accessory to match her earrings. I think I hear a groan from the first bedroom.

7:50 Queenie is in the foyer waiting for the bus waving and yelling at everyone that walks by. Bubby appears with toothpaste around his mouth, somewhat dressed and exhausted from his morning ritual sits on the steps, places his head against the wall and closes his eyes. In a distance I hear a bathroom door slam shut.

7:55 Queenie informs me she is leaving, she wants Cinnamon Toast Crunch from the store, she needs some new socks and that Henry in math sure is cute but he sags his pants and that just wont do. I nudge Bubby and tell him to get his shoes on, wash his face and his lunch is in the fridge. With his eyes clothes he says "I AM." #1 son is foraging in the kitchen yelling because SOMEONE ate all the Pop Tarts.

8:00 I see Queenie get on the bus but hear an entire chorus of "HI Queenie!" as her friends welcome her to the bus. #2 has his shoes on his feet, has used his arm to wipe his face and is leaning against the door struggling to stand. I remind him to get his lunch. #1 appears dressed, clean, book bag and lunch in hand and in a remarkably polite manner asks "Can I drive?"

8:02 Boys both leave, I reward Corky for her hard work in the endeavor with a treat.

8:03 #2 comes sauntering back as he has forgotten his lunch. "If you'd get me up on time I'd have time to remember my lunch."

Momma needs a treat.