It’s not a big deal, really…mornings are just mornings in the House house. It takes Hayden almost forty minutes and 3–5 “GET OUT OF BED” reminders before he makes his way into normal clothes. He needs at least five reminders to brush his hair-you’d think that a kid who insists on having long hair would want to do more with it than just shove it into a hoodie! He sits down to eat his now cold bagel ten minutes before he needs to leave for school, and (not so) gently informs me that he prefers his bagels toasted on the ‘bagel setting’ not just the regular toast setting. Note taken.
Because it’s a writing day for me, I have decided on an egg, cheese and onion english muffin for my breakfast which is almost perfectly done on the stove…but a noise pulls me from the kitchen. The only noise that can make a person forget everything that’s happening around them. You guessed it-my dog is throwing up somewhere. So now I’m rubbing her belly as she heaves onto my freshly mopped floors, telling her “it’s okay” while my child decides to sit down on the couch and pet our other dog and TELL ME how gross this is-how it’s A LOT of throw up. Mind you, he should be walking out the door in three minutes, his hair still looks like a science project gone wrong and my wife is standing before me saying, “Babe-I’m so sorry but I have to go now.” as she hands me a roll of paper towels and a plastic bag. (Thankfully though she has removed my breakfast from the stove)
I quickly clean up the floor, kiss her goodbye and return to clean up some more-just because, well-vomit.
My dogs snuggle up on the couch which they are not allowed on and I ignore them to return to my breakfast. I stack up my sandwich and wrap it up in a paper towel to keep any remaining heat on it, because there’s a voice in my head that reminds me to wait until Hayden leaves before I take a bite. I set it on the table next to my coffee cup, sit down and open up my macbook.
“Hayden it’s time to go!” I yell sweetly into the air. Sweetly, because despite my morning madness-I am beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s almost over. It’s almost quiet in the house. And it has always been my hope to send him off to school after having a ‘good’ morning. Then I hear it…the words escaping beneath the bathroom door. The words that could push me over the edge.
“Mom-you’re going to have to drive me down.” He says in the most matter-of-fact ‘look at you Nya YOU’RE A MOM NOW’ type of tone. It is then followed with, “I’m sorry mom, I have to poop now.”
I adapt the same tone and find no hesitation in letting him know, “That’s awesome Hayden! Really it doesn’t matter because my breakfast and coffee are now cold -and this is ridiculous because had you gotten out of bed forty minutes earlier than you did, this wouldn’t be a problem. So lets definitely jump into a cold car and rush down to the bus stop-don’t worry about Isabella being left alone-she’s only been puking plastic all morning because you couldn’t close your bedroom door all the way-this is awesome. And honestly-it’s my fault because this is how every morning goes. Shame on me for my surprise! Can I get you a magazine or something for your morning poop?!”
No response.
I grab my sandwich just as he’s stepping out of the bathroom. I grab my keys and tell him I’ll meet him in the car.
Upon climbing in, I see the INSANE amount of granola all over the passenger seat. Remnants from his post soccer practice snack. I leave it so he can see it before climbing in. He says, “whoa.” and waits for me to brush it off before getting into the car. Honestly, I should know better than to give my toddler food in the car!
Are you tired yet? I am.
We make it down to the bus stop. I turn into the last house on the left and let him out with wishes of a great day. He tells me he loves me and then I back out of the driveway and hit the garbage can on the other side of the road. WHY? Because the windows are still all fogged up-there was no time to defrost them before racing to the bus stop-because if you think I’m going to rush to sit in the carpool line, you have lost your mind.
I climb out of my car, in my sweatpants and hoodie. I walk towards the wreckage of garbage bags, boxes and popcorn that have been spewed all over my neighbors yard.
And there’s my perfect and beautiful little boy, standing in the middle of the road with his arms out wide and a massive grin across his face that says, “WTF MOM?!”
I know I’ve embarrassed him and a part of me knows that I will probably care about that one day, but not in that moment. I cleaned up my mess. I drove back home and washed my hands before finally sitting down to enjoy my cold breakfast. Cold.
Now the house is quiet. The dogs are asleep and I write this little recap of my morning in the hopes that there is another parent out there who will read this and sigh in relief. When it comes to running a household with a teenager inside…we are ALL mad down here!!!
HAPPY PARENTING!!!!!
