I’ve Been Found

With a husband gone and two rambunctious kiddos and one on the way who is constantly partying it up club-like in your belly, there is not much downtime. In other words…my “me” time is limited. Or nonexistent.

Enter my saving grace…first thing in the morning. Now those who know me, know that I’m not a morning person. You have to give me a few hours minutes to lay in bed and wake up and then a few more minutes after I get out of bed. It’s a process. Little Man is the same way. Little Miss used to be but has grown out of it and Mr. Chaos just gets up and is fine. But me, I need some time.

So lately our morning ritual has become this…

  1. The kids wake up and come lay in bed with me.
  2. We lay in bed for 15-20 minutes.
  3. They tell me they’re hungry no less than 50 times.
  4. We go downstairs to get breakfast.
  5. Eat and watch cartoons and then get ready for our wonderful fun-filled day

But lately, as my “me” time has diminished more and more and the kids deciding to come and hang out with mom earlier and earlier, I decided that something had to be done. My sanity was at stake people. MY SANITY. I’m already crazy enough, I don’t need the little sanity I have compromised.

So I did what any sane person would do. While the kids eat and watch their cartoons, mom sneaks away and does whatever is needed on the computer while simultaneously getting in some much needed “me” time while I drink my coffee.

Until yesterday. When the kids figured me out. No longer do they sit and watch their morning cartoons. Nope. No longer do they wait until 7:30 to come into my room to wake me up. Nope. No longer. They’ve decided (as has the one in my belly because the dancing party has started earlier and earlier) that 6:30-6:45 is the best time to come climb into bed and that by 7 we need to be downstairs and as soon as I start the “Mommy sneak away maneuver,” I hear, “Where you going” from Little Man which then gets his sister’s attention which then turns into, “I’ll be right back guys. Just forgot something upstairs” which then turns into 15 minutes, at the most, of quiet “me” time.

Which is not enough to save my sanity. So I made a decision. When Mr. Chaos comes back and I go pick him up I’m going to hand him the keys to the car and give some excuse as to why I can’t drive him home after his ridiculously long flight. And once he has keys in hands and is in the car with the kids all ready to go I’m going to use my “Mommy sneak away maneuver” and hail a cab or jump on a bus or something and tell them to take me far far away.

Of course, I’m kidding….

really…

I’m just kidding….

OK I swear I’m kidding….

 

 

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