Rush Hour

Ah, the morning rush hour.  Every day I feel a great sense of accomplishment simply by making it to work on time. And, not to my surprise, it seems that all mothers tend to be elated when they make it anywhere on time.  Sure, I set my alarm 2.5 hours before I have to be to work, but there is always something that seems to pop up.  Let alone the inevitable chore of getting myself and my unpredictable 3 year old ready to get out the door... on time.

No matter how much time, or effort, or planning, or routine is involved, there is always the great unknown lurking over my shoulder.  Threatening to pounce on me at any given moment.

Take this morning for example... alarm sounds, 6:34. SNOOZE... 6:43, damn alarm again... SNOOZE... 6:52, ok! Ok!  Probably time to get my ass in gear.

While tip-toeing out into the hallway as to not wake up my "not a morning person" son, I hear a whimper. <Insert deer in headlights face>  Shit, I'm busted. I freeze in my tracks and listen... "Mmmooooommmmmm?" There we go;  peaceful shower and easy morning just went out the window. At least I set the timer on the coffee pot last night.

So I scoop up my grouchy toddler and proceed down the stairs, deposit him on the couch, and try to make it to that coffee... Now we're only a couple minutes behind schedule when the whirlwind actually begins... As I let the dogs outside, I hear Eli screaming from the living room.  So I scurry, as fast as a still half asleep parent can, into the living room to find him standing on the couch holding his man parts and wailing that he : "Needs to gooo ppooottttyyyyyy!!!!"  Alright, alright, calm down.  We can do this!  Then we brush our teeth, I locate clothes for both of us to wear and wonder: where are the dogs??  Oh crap, they're still outside. And I realize I have yet to put my hands on this elusive cup of coffee.

On my way to the back door I spy, out of the corner of my eye, the empty food and water bowls.  I fill the dog bowls and set my sights on that coffee pot... I swear it appears to be glowing as if sent from heaven, drawing me in... scratch, scratch, scratching on the door inturrupts me mid stride. Oh, right! I came in here to let the dogs in!!  In they come, right to the freshly filled bowls they go and off to the shower I scamper.  It's now 7:32 and we are increasingly behind schedule.

Proceed to the fastest shower, hair drying, straightening, dressing and makeup application humanly possible.  Then in a flash, this supermom has reached the living room with her hands full of  clothes to be put on her toddler... But, wait! What is that noise?? Oh, that's the precious, now confirmed to be grouchy child, proclaiming in a tone that can only heard by animals that he doesn't want to get dressed and that he, in fact, will be wearing his pj's to daycare today. BAH, WHATEVER!! I actually couldn't care less at this point what my child is wearing and am actually thrilled that he slept in sweatpants and a t-shirt instead of the usual footie pajama's... for god's sake it's 8:04 and I haven't even started the car or made lunches.  And can someone please just get me a #@%*ing cup of coffee!

So, I run, yes run, out to start the car. Back to the kitchen I go while Eli is happily watching Mickey Mouse.  I grab the nearest can of soup, snack bar, apple, cheese stick, pretzels, anything prepackaged I can get my hands on and throw it in a bag! And we're off. 

Just as soon as I think we're in the clear, we've hit a little road block. Code name: Temper Tantrum.  For those of you who thought the two's were "terrible",  hold on to your hats girls because it's going to get a hell of a lot worse.  As I am literally bribing my child to get the mittens, hat, boots and coat on his body, I wonder to myself... When did this happen?  When did I become this blithering idiot who has to negotiate with a tiny person just to get out the door in the morning?  The truth is I can't tell you when this internal transition occurred... Perhaps it's the mother's instinct?  Perhaps these fine parenting skills are lying dormant inside women until the day they are needed?  Or perhaps I am simply sleep deprived?  Yea, that's it.  And then, just like that, I'm back to reality. Mentally counting the minutes that are ticking away.

I grab my bags, my now to-go coffee cup, Eli's hand and out the door we go... YES!!!  Wait, I have my slippers on?!?!  Awesome.  After a maddening minute of searching for my house keys, back in we go, shoes are changed and now we are really ready.

The second we back out of the driveway a sense of calm washes over me... we did it.  We're on the way.  These small victories have come to mean so much in my life... simply that we made it out the door in one piece is a "win".  So, with "Silly Songs" blaring on my car speakers and Eli happily serenading me from the back seat, we begin our day.  Not too shabby in my opinion... and it's only 8:37.