8:05 Am

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I opened my eyes and knew it was later than it should be. The sun was shinning a little to shiny and the air felt somehow different. I checked my phone and holy shit it read 8:05 am as I commenced panicking. My alarm never went off!!! What kind of piece of shit technology… there’s no time for that now. It was a weekday and two out of four boys leave for school at 8:10 because the absolute earliest you’re allowed to drop your perfect darlings off is 8:20. I was under the weather the night before so I hadn’t pre-made their lunches like I usually do. I hadn’t set out their clothes the night before like I usually do. Maybe we could just call it a wash and all stay home? They haven’t reached the maximum amount of days off yet. But OH MY GOD when they are all home on a weekday they drive me up. all. the. walls!!! Ok I can do this. They have to be in school by the absolute latest 8:45. I still have time. This all went through my head in about five seconds when I decided to commit to running around like a lunatic to get them out as opposed to keeping my precious angels home and yelling “you’re not even supposed to be here today” at them all day.

I hate rushing for anything and I absolutely hate being late.

I wasn’t always this way. The old me wouldn’t think anything of taking my time and strolling in forty five minutes late, but that changed more than a decade ago when my husband and I first got back together. He is early to everything. He would leave so early to things that I would begin to question his sanity. Are you sure you need to leave 45 minutes early to go 15 minutes away??? Really??? Until I started doing the same. I like to take my time now, to be prepared, to be early and organized instead of stressed and a mess. Rushing sucks. The old me would frequently sleep through alarms, rising from my bed in a panic of confusion and tangled hair, nervously watching the minutes pass as I inevitably caught every. single. red light on my way to work. Once I lived the flip side and saw how much better and well adjusted it could be I quickly switched over and got used to this new life.

In this instance I presumably had twenty minutes to get them dressed, fed, brushed, lunched and out the door. Luckily they themselves had already woken up and were furiously building away on Minecraft or whatever it is that they do now on their tablets, so at least having to wake them wouldn’t be an issue. These are the times when my eight year old and all that I’ve taught him comes in handy. I can bark orders at him and he will immediately hop to attention in these kinds of situations (not always so don’t get too jealous and his 5 year old brother is the complete opposite mind you and sees these moments as opportunities to take twice as long). Get the bread in the toaster! Eat this cereal! Get Dressed! Brush your teeth! And let’s gloss over the fact that you woke up on time but didn’t think about the fact that it was A. a school day or B. that just maybe you should have woken me up for a good reason for once.

And just when you’re fist pumping the air and thinking you’ve got this thing under control…

My special little snowflakes remind me in between bites of Cheerios that this day was dress like your favorite character day and I had put them in uniforms which they otherwise would have worn.

OFF WITH THE UNIFORMS!!! The Queen of Hearts screamed.

Back up the stairs to pull out fitted pajamas. Quick apples of my eye, get them on and put your costumes on over them!!!

Go fuck yourself Thanks Week of the Young Child!

They did manage to make it to school on time. I am lucky that my father, who lives with us, has taken up the responsibility of getting them to school on time and in one piece every morning since Jack was born in December. If I had to get all four ready and out the door there is no presumable way they would have made it or that I would have been able to pull myself off the nice cold floor and out of the fetal position. It certainly does take a village.

Have a great day at school Superman and Wolverine, Mama loves you!

And then next time I looked at my phone is when I noticed the “alarm dismissed after 1 minute” message. Good job mom, way to go old me.

P. s. There was no cute picture taken of the boys this morning to accompany this post because see above.

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I am a food allergy mama of 4 boys, a former fashion designer, and a master of the five point palm exploding heart technique, keeping it Fantastico.

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