set the bar low

So, this is how my morning went...

6:00 am - Patrick's alarm goes off, wakes up Malcolm, 3 rooms away even though I hit snooze so fast that Mr. NPR barely utters 2 syllables.  Patrick continues sleeping.  Malcolm talks and sings.  

6:10 - I hit snooze again, Malcolm is now shouting.  If he's up, he wants the world to be up too.

6:20 - I nudge (with force) Patrick.  Malcolm still shouting.  Patrick in shower.

6:30 - Ceci comes in and climbs in bed with me.  "Did Malcolm wake you up?" I ask.  She nods.  Patrick still in shower.

6:40 - Malcolm starts to cry.  Patrick, just now out of the shower, goes to get Malcolm so he (Malcolm, not Patrick) can crawl all over Ceci and I and shout in our ears.  

6:45 - We drag ourselves out of bed and to the kitchen.  Patrick grinds the coffee (trying to wake up Henry) and Malcolm shouts repeatedly because he likes loud noises.  Henry is sound asleep.

6:55 - Henry comes in the kitchen.  "Malcolm woke me up."  He says. I think, "Well, it's about time..." Patrick and I begin the mad scramble.  "Eatyourbreakfastbrushyourteethgotothebathroomchangeyourunderwearwaitit'sbackwardshereletmetieyourshoesyouneedahattodaybyeIloveyou."

7:15 - Henry and Patrick dash out the door.

So, then I played cars with Ceci while Malcolm wrecked our traffic jam.  At 8:00,  Curious George came on, so Ceci went to watch that while I cleaned up the breakfast dishes. Malcolm, miraculously, watched it too. I got the kitchen all clean, lit a candle (my ritual) and moved to do the kitchen table area.  I walk back in the kitchen not two minutes later,  and Malcolm is playing on the floor with all the plasticware.  All of it.

 So, Malcolm goes in his room to play so I can finish straightening up and get a shower.  Ceci comes in seconds before I step into that steaming hot shower, and says she needs to go potty.  I take her to her bathroom, help her on the potty, and go get in the shower.  By the time I get out, she is done.  She comes in and says, "There's poopy on the floor."  I wonder where else there is poopy.  

Anyway, despite the poopy, we had a great day.  The weather has been fabulous in my opinion.  A little chilly, but I like it.  Especially since it is usually 88 degrees this time of year.  (Where is the degrees symbol on the computer, by the way?  They have 2 useless accent marks and no degrees...)

Anyway, I have to confess that I love cleaning my house.  You probably wouldn't know it by looking at it, but I do.  It is a constant struggle for me to choose to play horsies and go to the park instead of sending the kids to their rooms to play while I clean for 2 hours.  I'm not going to say that making that choice is the hardest thing about being a parent for me because it's not.  Getting them in and out of the car is far more taxing.  And don't get me started on bathtime.  These are just the things I never even realized would be hard.  I mean, there are so many truly hard things (disciplining with grace and truth, deciding what school situation will be best, choosing not to worry about ridiculous things that are beyond my control), but I kind of knew those things would be hard.  It's the little things that surprised me.  I really like a clean house, and it is far easier for me to clean than play or color, but when I asked Ceci who her favorite person to play with was, and she pointed at me, I knew it would be a while before my house was at the clean standard I'd want it to be.  What do I want her to remember, my clean house or my fine-tuned whinny I used for Ginger?  What to I want her to value, fingerprint-free glass doors or the time I spent with her?

And anyway, my future daughter-in-laws will have a hard enough time beating my fabulous cooking and impeccable sense of style.  I wouldn't want to intimidate them.