Well, it's Sort of a Schedule

I was talking to a friend today about our morning schedules. She sent me a copy of her friend’s schedule which had every activity carefully laid out and timed down to the second. It was a schedule that included precisely 2.5 minutes for brushing teeth, 35 seconds for tying shoes, and 20 seconds for wiping one’s butt. I may be exaggerating slightly, but still, the schedule smacked of military precision and impeccable timing. I got to thinking about my own morning routine. I was forced to admit that perhaps, I might benefit from a little more structure. My typical weekday morning looks a lot like this . . .

5:45 Savannah walks through my room to get to the bathroom. I awake only enough to sense there’s someone in my room. In my dreamlike state, I imagine it’s an intruder. I don’t care if they steal everything I own as long as they’re quiet so I can go back to sleep.

6:00 My alarm goes off and I hit the snooze.

6:08 My alarm goes off and I hit the snooze.

6:16 My alarm goes off and I consider quitting my job and homeschooling my kids before I hit the snooze.

6:24 My alarm goes off and I decide that quitting is the best plan of action before I hit the snooze.

6:32 My alarm goes off and I remember that I need a paycheck and insurance, but I hit the snooze again anyway.

6:40 My alarm goes off and I freak out that we’re all going to be late, or even worse, that I won’t have time to make coffee. I grab my phone and check my email.

6:42 Done skimming email, I play a couple games of solitaire because I may be unforgivably late, but that’s no reason to rush things.

6:47 I drag myself from my nice warm bed and limp to the girls’ room because I’m old and my knees creak when I take my first steps every morning.  I wake up my girls and Clayton who has come to their room sometime during the night, and tell them to HURRY.

6:52  Stand in my closet while looking blindly at my clothes.  Lament that my wardrobe would be twice the size if I just lost another 10 pounds.  Take a skirt off the hanger then decide my ankles look too fat to wear a skirt today.  Grab a pair of capris, then discard them when I remember the zipper doesn’t stay up on those.  Lose a few moments imagining the horror of standing up at my white board, trying to explain slope intercept to my eighth graders while they snicker at my open fly.  Pull a pair of khakis off a hanger then decide I don’t have any tops to go with them.  Throw item after item in a heap on the floor of my closet while complaining that I have nothing to wear.  Black pants – too loose, brown pants – too short, tan pants – too hot, green shirt – too much cleavage, blue shirt – too sleeveless for bat wings, orange shirt – I’m not in an orange mood today.

6:59  Disgusted with myself, my clothing, and mornings in general, I pull the stupid skirt I originally selected from the pile of discarded clothing on the floor and trudge to the shower.

7:00  Wash the makeup off my face from yesterday since I fell asleep before doing it last night because I’m classy like that, shampoo, condition, shave, wash, rinse.

7:08  Get out, wrap my bathrobe around me and go downstairs to make coffee.  I tell people it’s because I need caffeine so badly, but in all honesty, it’s because I’m too lazy to dry myself off.  It’s easier to walk around in a terry robe for a bit until I automatically dry.

7:10  Make sure my little ones are eating, make coffee, make my lunch, grab my cup and head back upstairs. The next twenty minutes are spent on a ritual so complex, I can’t even explain it.  It involves a lot of jars, lotions, makeup, potions, brushes, hair products, and burning hot irons.

7:30  Think to myself that we should be pulling out of the driveway NOW.  Rush downstairs while yelling at kids to get in the car.

7:31  Remind Clayton and Jackson to take their medicine.

7:32  Remind Clayton and Jackson to take their medicine again.

7:33  Remind Clayton and Jackson to take their medicine in what some may construe as a threatening voice.

7:34  Sign planners that were supposed to be signed the night before.

7:35  Yell at the kids to stop watching tv, put their stinkin’ shoes on, and get in the car.

7:36  Begin the daily hunt for Clayton’s shoes.

7:42  Find Clay’s shoes and, in a futile attempt to make him learn, tell him for the 40,000 time to put his freakin’ shoes where they belong when he takes them off.

7:45  Start my car, look back to make sure everyone’s present and accounted for.  Tell Lexi to go back inside and get her glasses.

7:50 Arrive at school as the bell rings.

8:15  Arrive at my school after wishing for the zillionith time that I had a front-mounted missle launcher so I could vaporize all the idiot drivers who get in my way.

Hmmmm, on second thought, it would take too much time out of my evening schedule to create a better morning schedule.  I guess I’ll just stick with this one.

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Article Posted 4 years Ago
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