Mornings With Merrimans

Silly SamFriday was one of those mornings at our house. Caroline couldn’t find shorts, Sam wanted me to play balloon-bounce with him, the dog was in the kitchen stealing bagels every time I left the room, and Scott and I just wanted caffeine. But school needed notes about the field trip (yes, we could drive; we were both coming; we could carry three including our own; and we would buy popcorn for all seventy five or so would-be bowlers so Sam would have a snack), we had to put a cooler out for the co-op, and Caroline snacked on half the things we meant to send in her lunch.  Murder!

“Don’t you have a skort? Check the closet.”

“I did.”

“Do it again. Sam, I’m coming! I have to get your sister ready, first!”

Never!” His favorite interjection. “Dad can do that.”

“Yes, I can.”

“OK, Sam, Quick round of balloon …. Chewie get out of the kitchen. Honey would you put him out and close that door.”

Next door’s dog was barking incessantly. Normally, it doesn’t bother me, but Friday, each yap penetrated to …. That wasn’t next door’s dog, that was my dog, “Chewie get in here and shut up! Jesus, what was that all about?”

Scott failed in the laundry quest, too. “Caroline, you’re going to have to wear a dirty pair.” Typically, he can produce clean clothes from the dryer as if by magic. “The skort still looks OK.”

“It won’t help today, but see if she’s got any in my backseat. She had to change at ballet a couple of times.”

Mom come back.”

“We’re all done, Sam. I need to get Sis ready, and you have to wear shorts over the underwear. Come on, baby doll! Hair!

Somebody needs to play with me!”

Scott had achieved coffee. “Five minutes, Sam. We’ll do five minutes of Legos, then you need pants.”

“Caroline, hair! Now!”

“I need goo first.” Eczema, sweat, and awkward washing habits have rendered her left ear bloody in back.

“After hair! Take a shower tonight. Put on some deodorant for right now. Put on a LOT of deodorant. Holy God it’s 7:30 already. How did it get to be 7:30? Hair! Come on, hair! You can put on deodorant in the car.”

“Here’s your Coke, Jessie.” Blessed caffeine.

Frazzled and amped up, the kids and I piled into the car for the morning’s low flight through rush hour traffic. “Great take-off,” Scott said, waving from the door.

And it was. Nobody got bitten; there were no sobbing meltdowns; and, while one of them was a little smelly, the kids’ personal hygiene was at least on par with the other children in their classes. All of the stressors were manageable. I won’t look back fondly to this; I know myself too well. But compared to the mornings with time-outs, misunderstandings, and four way battles, Friday was awesome.

About jesterqueen:
Jessie Powell is the Jester Queen. She likes to tell you about her dog, her kids, her fiction, and her blog, but not necessarily in that order.

Comments

Mornings With Merrimans — 16 Comments

  1. sweet sighs…as I sit here and sip my own Diet Coke.

    Our house sounds like that a lot…esp lately. I can put out shorts and long sleeved shirts..Gio gets dressed, Jacob fights with me for a half hour about wanting to wear jeans with long sleeved shirts, and “church shoes” not sneakers…I chase them around with a bottle of apple detangler, not because they have enough hair to detangle, HA, but because it makes combing it to the side easier and it smells better.

    I felt like I was standing in your kitchen and again, happy sighs about a good morning, a good day, no biting and a day you can look back on. Yay for mornings like that.
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  2. Morning madness..it’s everywhere. And you and Scott managed it so well. I am glad on any given day when my kids make the bus!

    • I hated the school bus so much as a kid. I had this ungodly long commute for what would have been a twenty minute ride if my folks could have driven me. I’m actually really grateful to be able to take my kids in myself. But ohhhhh yeah, some mornings are batshit crazy.

    • In our case, the answer is, “because we are two”. I honestly have NO IDEA how single parents survive – and that includes my Mom, who is a single GRANDparent raising my niece. Scott and I look at each other every day and threaten, “If we ever divorce, you get the kids.” (OK, the real answer is probably “with a sense of humor”.)

    • Oh yeah. On the other hand, I know you had some very very VERY akin to mine, and I take comfort in knowing that both of your kiddos are healthy heading-for-adults. I can look ahead and say, “Odds are, we’ll get there.”

  3. Brings back memories, some fond, some otherwise. I don’t miss the hectic, screech and defy, mornings; I miss them, though, as they struggle with their own crazy mornings with my grandkids. Lovely piece, Jessie. Thanks for sharing.