Mornings aren't magical

Mornings aren't Magical

darla6Mar 04, 2014

My alarm goes off and I am up and ready, not happy that it is morning by any means, nevertheless it is time to drag myself to the kitchen for COFFEE!

My dog has already decided that he is going to lick my face with a pure passion that I am sure he only understands. I often think as this is happening, wouldn't it be wonderful if everyone in my life greeted me with such enthusiasm first thing in the morning. Clearly this is not the case as I head back upstairs to my teenage son, open his door and let him know it is time to get up. I hear the usual grown, and depending on the day, a grumble about how he is not feeling well and may just have to stay home from school. This is a trick that for some strange reason he thinks may work, been using it for years. Then it is the pre-teen daughter's turn. Now this one is dicey as on any given day I could be waking a bear from its long winter nap, or my sweet little girl of past years.

With my loyal companion, the extremely happy and excited dog following my ever step (as if it is the best part of his day). I open the door gingerly and say good morning. Hank (  the extremely happy and excited dog) goes full force into her room and greats her the same way he had greeted me 15 minutes ago. She turns and smiles, phew, this will be an OK day, depending totally on whether she can get through the morning without some minute thing setting her off. My partner is already in the shower and as usual has found some way to be in the biggest hurry of his life. I find my way back downstairs as the family unit does their thing.

As my son begrudgingly makes his way down stairs, the total confusion starts. This is one thing that I still can't quite understand. How it is possible in one nights sleep, my children's memory can be reset? The questions start as if I hold the key to another realm, the realm of lost socks, belts, jacket or any other such belonging. My daughter yells from upstairs "MOM, do you know where my hairbrush is?". I look down at Hank and think to myself, Why would I know where your hairbrush is? "It's most likely where you left it." I reply. This is when the sleeping bear scenario arises. It usually starts with some sort of shriek, something only Hank hears. "IT"S NOT THERE!". Hank the trusty dog rushes to her rescue, as if he may know where this hairbrush may be. At this point he may know better than I do. After a complete hair brush melt down, she makes her way downstairs ( now back to the sweet little girl ).

It's time to eat breakfast, nothing fancy because are you kidding me I just spent a half an hour dealing with a hairbrush, and a lost belt. That, I might add, were exactly where they left them. My son makes toast and peanut butter, a staple in this morning ritual. My daughter on the other hand tells me she doesn't like any thing we have anymore and I am not fair because I never get her anything she likes. We literally just went shopping last night and she picked out what she wanted. The t.v. is turned on and they sit quietly, thank god.

This is when I try not to completely lose my mind. My Husband walks down the stairs whistling or singing. He has spent the last 30 minutes in the shower, completely unaware of his surroundings. He then happily eats some toast that I have left out for him and drinks his cup of coffee in front of the t.v.. Turns to me and says "Good Morning". I look down at Hank and think to myself,  it is a good morning isn't it buddy. Any morning I get to spend with my family is a good morning.

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