Last week several friends shared this hilarious article with me, knowing that I also do all the things before I get to work each day. I’m a morning person but even I don’t want to get up at 4:45AM. The problem is that I have so much to do I can’t see any other way. At this point, I’m the first in my family to bed at 9:15 and my 11 year old tucks me in. I can’t tell you the last television show I watched.
See this flattering picture? This was Wednesday. I hit a 5 minute snooze when the soothing voices of NPR came across my clock radio and hopped out of bed at 4:50. A few stretches later I threw on my laid-out-the-night-before workout clothes and hit START on the coffee maker. A half cup of coffee is required before a 5:30 workout so that my eyes are open enough to affix contacts. While the coffee brewed I unloaded the dishwasher, reviewed the teenagers’ text history on phones charging in the kitchen and moved a load of wash to the dryer.
I met my friends for a 45 minute neighborhood run and circuit. Is it fun getting up in the dark to exercise? No. But fitness is my number one stress beater and my friends hold me accountable. Plus, it’s really the only time I get to see these likewise busy ladies.
Back from the run, I unloaded the groceries delivered from our dairy and farm share and bid adieu to my bike-commuting husband who has thoughtfully laid out medications and lunches for the boys. I added a few apples to lunches packed the night before and got dinner going in the Instant Pot. We had a cross-country meet and soccer practice at the same time 40 minutes apart that night and the only way dinner was getting made was at 6AM. Hopefully this would keep the chili warm all day without blowing up my house.
With dinner going, I went up to get myself ready, stopping at twins’ rooms to give the first wakeup call over Alex Baldwin- and Blake Shelton-recorded alarms on their Alexas. With 15 minutes allotted, I showered, dressed and answered via voice-to-text all of the work emails that came in after 10PM. All the while I silently cursed that none of my male colleagues had to spend time putting on makeup or flat ironing their hair to conform to societal professional norms and thanked the good lord for whoever invented dry shampoo.
Dressed for work, I donned my handy black apron to get two rounds of hot breakfast on the table. With bacon frying I hollered up to the twins one last time and woke up the little guy who has developed a mysterious “back muscle pull” and believed he “absolutely just can’t go to school today.” With five minutes of empathy, cajoling and, finally, bribing behind me, I carried a half dressed 11 year old to the table.
With no teenagers afoot, I gave the ultimatum, “today’s the day, guys. You’re late, you get a detention.” I folded what was in the dryer, finished last night’s pots and pans and wiped down the counter when two salty 16 year olds arrived to tell how it’s anyone’s fault but their own that they’re going to be late today. Standing on my tippy toes to kiss them goodbye, I said “I love you” while being yelled at as they sprinted the four blocks to school.
Having missed my window to hop on metro (because: environment! money! Really, my only time to myself…) I decided to drive to the office. When I arrive 40 minutes later my blood pressure was pumping and I arrived 5 minutes late to my 9:30 meeting. And I’m beat, because I’ve been up for nearly 5 hours and have done ALL of the things. A 9:15 bedtime never looked so attractive.