A mixture of broken sentences swirl around my head as I stare at the blank blog post that sits before me. A large pile of plastic hangers that I had crammed between my dresser and the laundry basket falls in a tangled mess upon my bedroom floor. I close my eyes tightly, rubbing them fiercely with clenched fists. In my mind I see my normally clean, quiet home. Upon opening my eyes though, all remains the same and my head pounds just as ferociously.
Yesterday was my step-daughters 21st birthday.
As of yesterday, I have officially been a part of her life longer than I haven’t been, and she’s been a part of mine. I’ve watched her ups and downs. I’ve been some of her ups and downs. I’ve watched her grow from a stubborn little girl who hid her fears behind her fiercely independent attitude, into a strong willed young lady with a heart of gold.
I truly couldn’t imagine life without her in it, or the three beautiful grandchildren she has blessed us with.
Last night, in honor of her last truly celebratory birthday, we took the oldest two of her three children so that she could celebrate the way “normal” 21 year olds celebrate.
It’s times like this morning that I truly give her credit, give all parents credit, as I realize how easy I really have it sometimes. You see, my children are not your average children. They sleep in. They wake up quietly and typically sit and watch cartoons for a little while.
I, given I’m not at work, can usually get a cup of coffee into me before having to actually acknowledge their existence. Sometimes even two. And, on rare occasions, can even get a blog post out into the world first.
Today was not one of those days….
I awoke just as the sun peaked through our bedroom windows and quietly crawled out of bed. I tiptoed out of our bedroom and appeared as though I didn’t notice the big brown eyes watching me as I crossed the living room floor. I turned the corner and my eyes fell onto the glorious sight of my coffee pot.
I quietly peeled a coffee filter loose from the pile and filled it with a couple scoops of coffee grounds. With the silence of a ninja, I very quietly removed the coffee pot from the maker and ever so slowly turned towards the kitchen sink when…
I immediately tripped over three little toddlers.
“When’s my mom coming back?”
“Can we have ice cream?”
“I want cartoons”
I opened my eyes wider, as though the movement alone would awaken me more. I stared at these adorably wide awake children and I wondered…
How in the hell do people do this on a daily basis?!
Seriously, I love my kids. I love my grand kids. Life would be utterly intolerable without them in it…. But, I’m much more “loving” when I’m actually awake.
My house is a mess. Littered with toys and ‘Frozen’ gummy wrappers and Bug Juice containers. There’s spilled milk and globs of cereal on my recently mopped floor. There’s blankets and pillows covering my living room. There’s blaring cartoons on, and even louder children playing, or screaming, depending on what second it happens to be.
Then there’s me, sitting here with a mixture of broken sentences swirling around my head and barely a swallow of caffeine sludging it’s way through my body.
I escape to the bathroom. A moment of silence. But before I have a chance to get fully seated upon the throne I notice 30 little fingers wiggling wildly under the door and the thuds of my ten year old fist on the door knocking.
“Mooooommmmm, are you in there?” He asks loud enough that I wonder if he woke the neighbors or if they were already awake.
I ponder the believability of telling him no. Nope, Mom’s not in here at all. It would likely buy me a good 45 seconds of silence as they canvased the house in search of this Mom figure they so desperately need the constant attention of. I wonder to myself if my hips would fit through the bathroom window. If I could slip out unnoticed. Perhaps sit at the picnic table. It’s too bad I didn’t bring my coffee in here with me. That idea would surely buy me a good 3 minutes before the little monsters found me again.
With a large sigh I open the bathroom door and leave the way I entered only a few brief moments before.
I pop three extra strength Tylenol into my mouth and quickly chug down my cup of coffee, accepting that silence and complete thoughts were just not going to be a part of my morning.
I sit down and open my laptop once again to a blank blog screen. I think about those that are waking up to clean houses. Those that are enjoying their coffee in silence. Those that don’t have spilled milk and globs of cereal on their freshly mopped floors. Those that don’t have blankets and pillows, ‘Frozen’ gummy wrappers and Bug Juice containers, toys and stuffed animals littering their living rooms. Those that don’t have blaring cartoons on, or even louder children.
And, my heart breaks for them.
It breaks because I know most of them would give their own lives to have the crazy chaotic morning that I am complaining about. I look down at these four little monsters and I smile, because I am so deeply blessed that these are my “bad” mornings.
Plus, I don’t have the hangover I’m betting my step-daughter has! 🙂