Our house thrives on the morning routine, we have one, it works.
Every day we wake up (always a good start) Rory has a shower then disappears downstairs with the children. I run a bath for the children then have a shower. When I get out of the shower there’s a cup of coffee and a Muller Light waiting for me, I get dressed and drink the coffee.
The children appear and ‘share’ my yogurt with me. They and Rory then go into the bathroom. I do my hair and make up (I’m not vain – it proves that I’m coping with life) after a little banging, splashing and shouting from the bathroom Seth is spat out, fully cleaned and dressed. He heads to Aoife’s room to play/destroy it. Then Aoife emerges in her school uniform with messy hair. I fix the hair, we go downstairs, get coats and shoes on then head to school.
Piece of cake!
Last week Rory had to have an operation and ended up having an overnight stay.
There was no coffee or yogurt when I got out the shower, the children didn’t much feel like rushing OR being still while I washed and dressed them. And my hair and face? Well, it was mid morning before they were complete (I wasn’t vain OR coping) Thankfully my Dad was on hand to help but the routine was thrown. I was in turmoil. I quickly realised that if it wasn’t for Rory, I couldn’t do it. My children would probably have to be home schooled, we’d probably still be late for that. I’d probably forget to feed them. They’d end up in their pyjamas all day. I’d have terrible hair, and I’d never have the time to write about how hard it is being a Mummy!
Luckily we got through it, the children survived. Rory is getting better and this morning I got out of the shower and was greeted by a coffee and a Muller light.
I feel I should point out that despite being flippant , I was very worried about Rory.
I couldn’t handle that malarkey every day ?