This is how my mother’s day started:
At 5:53AM, Kiddo#2 woke me, in tears, saying she had a tick on her body. I trailed her to the bathroom and somehow, without actually being awake enough to think, I pulled the tick off her. My Patient Husband seemed to be awake too, or awake enough to dispose of the tick after I had it removed.
6:05: Kiddo#2 asks if she can play the computer. Eventually my brain got in gear and I realized she was asking if she could play on the computer for an hour before everyone else got up. By that time, my Patient Husband had suggested she find something else to do. She said, “I know! I’ll do puzzles!” She did.
6:10: The baby decided Kiddo#2 should not have all the fun and awakened to nurse. While he nursed, I started morning prayers.
6:20: Baby is now fully awake and terribly excited, in a great mood to begin the day. Me: not so much. Patient Husband took the baby downstairs and left me to rest a little longer.
7:20: I awaken to realize I’d fallen asleep while trying to finish my morning prayers and then thought, I bet that’s why I kept forgetting the words to the Our Father.
(Side note: I hope God has a sense of humor about how often I fall asleep while talking to him. I’m going to end up at the throne of glory after I die, and the first thing God says to me will probably be, “I’m not boring you, am I?” while angels hand me a teddy bear and a pillow.)
Anyhow, that’s when Kiddo#3 started screaming, hurtling himself at his bedroom door, and throwing things because my Patient Husband had told him to stop wrecking Kiddo#2’s game and quit mouthing off at him. I awoke to this screaming tantrum, went down the hallway, and after I managed to get into the room through the door the Kiddo was trying to slam on me, the Kiddo instead slammed it on his own finger, necessitating a band-aid, a cold wash cloth, and some cuddling while he sobbed.
Hallmark never manages to capture the real moments of motherhood, and all before breakfast, too.