This is how I used to wake up (prior to my outnumbered status):
- Open my eyes to a quiet room
- Make some freshly ground coffee
- LEISURELY read the paper while sipping my coffee
- Have breakfast
- Say, “good morning honey, did you sleep well?” like they did in the 50’s
Now I don’t want to scare anyone who is thinking of having kids (why the hell would you be reading this blog anyway), but this is the series of 10 consecutive events that happened BEFORE 6:00 AM this morning:
1. The boys, in living room: “The baby barfed!” (for them, a little spit up qualifies as barf).
2. I run in top speed, not noticing that there was water spilled on the floor.
3. I do one of those banana peel falls. My legs fly out from under me, arms flail and I land flat (and hard) on my kitchen floor. I lie there for a second to assess if anything is broken/concussed/out of place.
4. See stars.
5. Crawl into living room, clean up the baby barf before I collapse again on the floor. The boys ask if I am resting. Yes, absolutely.
6. Drag myself to medicine cabinet to promptly take mega dose of Advil.
7. Make coffee (this should have been done first thing to avoid this whole situation).
8. Make breakfast for the baby and the boys.
9. Remember that garbage truck is coming so bring garbage outside. At this point in time my entire left half of my body is numb.
10. Go wake up husband, who declares, “Wow, what a night. I’m exhausted, and my neck is so sore from these pillows.”
We’re still together in case you’re wondering, but only because he made me another coffee.