I didn’t get up until 7:10 this morning… it’s funny how those few minutes can cause such a rush later on. Part of the reason was because W banged her head yesterday, and we’re both wondering if she has concussion - she was sick this morning - so I carried on with the intention of doing everything this morning if required.
Morning seems to be falling into the following;
Wakeup to sound of little voices in their bedrooms
Grudgingly get up.
Step from the bedroom door to cheerful greetings of “Morning Daddy
While munching and slurping goes on, I dive in the shower to make myself a little more human and a little less troglodyte.
Everybody troops back upstairs to brush teeth - youngest stands with mouth wide open in the middle of the bathroom awaiting a grownup with a toothbrush.
Time to get dressed - children put pyjamas back under pillows, and await clothes to be flung in their general direction. Comedy ensues as socks are put on upside down, pants backwards, and the youngest tries to fit both legs down one of her trouser legs.
I run into our bedroom, and invariably meet W getting up. I throw any clean clothes on with no regard for dress sense, and get downstairs before anything too untoward happens.
Back downstairs and straight into the garden to let the chickens out and do their food.
Back indoors, and throwing the breakfast bowls and cups into the sink.
A few minutes respite before the school run.
It all kicks off at 7, and ends at about 8:15. Every weekday. For the next god knows how many years. When I return to work, I may end up taking the eldest in for morning clubs at school on my way to work.