Mornings are hard. A challenge. Difficult. I hate them and they’re awful.
We keep staying up way too late, and then Camden wakes up anytime between 5-6:30 a.m. It’s a 50-50 shot as to whether or not we all manage to eat breakfast. Feed and water the dogs. Feed and water the chickens. Feed and water the plants. Then every day as we’re trying to get out the door, it’s “Where are the keys?” and juggling the baby and the carseat and my purse, diaper bag, lunch, and breast pump (so glamorous). Always leaving later than we’d prefer. Sometimes, like today, we get a few houses down the street and then turn around to make sure the oven is turned off and the back door is locked. Then we drop off Camden at daycare, with an embarrassing amount of hugs. (“Did you wait a long time to have him?” the daycare grandma asked this morning, which I assume is her way of saying, “Man, you guys sure are attached to this kid.”) The other day he cried for the first time when we were leaving, and then I cried, but he got over it before we even got back to the car. It took me a little longer to recover.
It’s summer right now, so the traffic is fine, but during the school year it’s rage-inducing.
But I also love the mornings. Most days Travis and I get to carpool, so after we drop off the little man, it’s just the two of us. We listen to “Morning Edition” and talk about the week (or, on Mondays and Fridays, the weekend). Sometimes we stop for caffeine and breakfast tacos. Or sometimes a Chick-fil-A chicken biscuit, if I’m being totally honest. Last Friday we stopped for gas near work, and as crazy as it sounds, it was a little fun, just this stolen moment, a detour together before going about our separate days.
And then sometimes it’s raining and Travis turns down the radio so we can hear each other better and then things get quiet and I fall asleep.
I guess I can live with the mornings.
[P.S. – I did keep up with my 32-for-32 project yesterday, but I wrote in my Q&A a Day journal instead of on here. Five days in, so far so good!]