Some mornings it just feels wrong to leave the house.
I’m almost always in a crappy mood in the morning, overtired, unmotivated, and roaring like a rhinoceros through the house, trying to ready myself and my children for the day ahead.
Yesterday I took a day off to spend with just Jack, who is on winter vacation this week. We had a great day together, went to lunch, painted clay at one of those shops where they fire it for you, and finished the day with sledding and cocoa. I remembered how we used to spend tons of one on one time together before Emily was born. It was a good day, doing one fun thing after another. I felt like Supermom, like I really brought it.
Today I have to go back to work. I’m just not feeling it.
I cringe as I write, thinking if my clients persisted in this negative thought pattern, I would encourage them to rewrite and rewire. Sure I’m tired, but today could bring any number of wonderful things! I’ve made it through challenging days before; I’ll be okay! Yeah, it helps a bit, but still. . .
It is no doubt the plight of working mothers everywhere that mornings are difficult at best, sucky at worst. (And if you are one of those moms who have everything super-organized, prepare a hot breakfast for your tranquil family, and get out of the house with perfect hair and a smile on your face, then a.) I didn’t know you existed in reality, and b.) I don’t know what you are doing reading my blog.
Leaving my family feels unnatural, concerning, and contrived on most days.
Other days, I will admit, it is sweet relief to slip out of the chaos and into my car alone.
But the relief is short-lived, and I am barely down the street before I start worrying about my husband getting the kids out of the house in one piece, and us all being safe throughout the day as we orbit in our separate spheres.
Mornings make me anxious and snappy, and I’m sure two cups of strong coffee (OK, sometimes three) do not help. While I try to set up stuff the night before, there is almost always a curve ball thrown my way to make me late– the cars are in the wrong order, we are out of bread for making lunches, Jack has a tantrum. You know the drill.
And then I am kissing them goodbye and see you tonight and be good and have a happy day and mama loves you. Sometimes they linger in my arms to hug and kiss me back. Other times their little bodies squirm away from me to tend to the television, or legos and baby dolls.
Walking out of the house, I almost always have that disconcerting I know I’m forgetting something feeling. I linger at the door before shoving my body out into the world.
What are your mornings like? Have you figured out anything that makes them easier or more organic for you and your family? What is the hardest part of your day?