Morning Mood Mediation

Okay, peeps.

I’m just gonna tell it like it is:

Mornings are ROUGH in our casa at the moment.

And not just because of that killer 6 a.m. alarm, (or perhaps, EVERYTHING that’s currently wrong with our mornings can be traced back to that yucky wake-up time), but because my babies are a LOT to take in the wee hours.

Their emotions are allllllll over the map, and the pouting (over tiny, ridiculous things like the fact that I DARE to brush their hair) is INTENSE.

So intense that I pretty much don’t do the morning time “fun” these days without my emotional support backup (the hubby).

Basically, I wake the kiddos individually with snuggles and unicorns and fairy dust, and dress them like they’re rag dolls before they collapse back in a heap while I move on to one of their siblings. All so they can sleep an extra 3.5 minutes, because that might be the difference maker between moderately level-headed children and maniac monsters that leave me in tears.

Then I haul them downstairs in rotational piggy bag rides (thanks heavens, Chica does NOT request this; my back might not be capable), wrap them in blankets to combat the pre-dawn gloom and save their tushies from the unbearable cold (note the heavy sarcasm here) of the kitchen table chairs, whilst I ready their made-to-order breakfasts and beam my calm, positive-thought mojo in their general direction.

I mean…in case you can’t tell, the coddling is at an ALL TIME HIGH, and it’s all in an attempt to not set off one of their emotional BOMBS (again, for some silly reason like I dared to send them to the restroom before they were ready, or forgot to add a splash of water to the toothpaste prep of their toothbrushes.

OYE.

Now.

Around the time of breakfast, the hubby shows up in the kitchen, ready to insert himself as the comic relief, the bad cop, the extra-special coddler, the sock-finder, the mover and shaker, or…anything I need him to he.

Because IT TAKES A VILLAGE.

Meanwhile…I continue along with packing lunches, bagging up snacks, signing daily classroom agendas, tucking away homework, tracking down library books, stringing face masks on necklace chains, and, you know, trying to avoid all of those ring humans with hair trigger emotions.

Now this is the point when the post takes a hard left and totally changes topics, though I swear there is some thin thread of connection, here.

Basically, Chicklet was having a meltdown before school the other day (no recollection of the particular trigger that day; I probably looked at her wrong), and we managed to turn her frown upside down by joking about her stuffed snow leopard, teasing that Daddy was going to take him to work.

Giggles were plentiful and we managed to shove all three babies out of the car with smiles on their faces as they headed into the school building, so…VICTORY.

And then, because Daddy is awesomesauce and wanted to keep the smiles going when the kiddos made it home from school, as well, he snagged a stuffed animal from each of the kiddos’ rooms and legit brought them to work and staged some hilarious photos.

Then he pulled all the pictures up on the TV when the kiddos came home (there were oodles more pics), and delighted the kiddos to no end. :)



Their faces pretty much say it all.

















So.

The moral of this post is this:

School year morning are HARD.

And there are times when I feel I’ve lived an entire day before 7:10 a.m., when we finally wave them along their way.

And my guess is that we’ll continue to employ every emotional coping method imaginable—and some tap dancing and juggling—for the foreseeable future, just to make it through that first hour of our day.

But if we can make it through that witching hour, it’s all uphill from there, right????

Happy Tuesday (is it really only Tuesday, peeps???).

Over and out.