Sweet Morningtime

On a typical weekday, our morning routine is simple and relatively smooth.

Lee will wake up between 4:00 and 5:00 A.M. and crawl between D and I. D’s alarm will go off at 5:00. He gets up and goes to the bathroom to get ready. I get up, grab Lee a cup of milk from the kitchen and put The Grinch on in our bedroom (yes, The Grinch. Yes, every morning).

While Lee watches The Grinch and drinks his milk, I hop on the stationery bike (also in our bedroom). Lee will remind me which character is which on the television screen and ask me 10,000 questions that he already knows the answer to while I get my exercise in.

Around 5:30, D emerges, ready to take on the day. Or, at least, headed to the coffee pot. He throws an arm out as he walks past the bed and scoops Lee up. They get coffee going, put the dogs out, get Lee dressed, take their vitamins, brush Lee’s teeth, get the dogs food bowls ready, have some one-on-one male bonding time, and then wake up Evie.

Meanwhile, I hop in the shower and get myself looking somewhat decent. When I come out, D almost always has them both completely dressed. Evie is ready for her bottle and Lee just needs socks and shoes.

D collects his hugs, kisses, and “I love yous” from us and heads out the door.

Leaving me alone.

With the crazy.

And yes, OKAY, I realize that he has done most of the work, but let me tell you one thing…. Getting Lee Thomas Ducote in the car each morning is the single, most challenging, task I face each day.

So, Evie drinks her bottle. We get Lee’s shoes on. I bring the dogs in. We all snuggle and cuddle on the couch until the last possible minute AND THEN IT IS GO TIME!

I grab both kids backpacks, my purse, and whatever else is needed for the day and drop it on the front porch. Evie gets buckled into her carseat and is also deposited on the front porch.

Where is Lee? I can tell you right now, his cute little butt is roaming the house turning off all of the light switches. If they’re already off, he turns them on, and then back off.

I yell his name. Then I load our belongings in the car. Come back to the porch, yell his name again. Pick up Evie’s seat and go pop it into it’s base in the car. Come back to the porch, yell his name again.

He appears. I lock the door behind him and tell him to come on. He tells me we have forgotten either his stuffed Puppy, or his Lightning McQueen car, or both. We go back in and get what we are missing. Back to the porch. Re-lock the door behind him.

He is standing at the door waving and telling the dogs good-bye. I tell him to get in the car. He sits down on the top step, poses Puppy and Lightning McQueen, and asks me to take their picture. I either do, or pretend to, and tell him to come on, again.

He takes one step down. Says aloud, “One,” and stares at me.

“Let’s go bud, come on, we’re gonna be late,” I say to him.

“Mommy, please say ‘one’,” he answers.

“One,” I say. He takes another step down. Says aloud, “Two,” and stares at me.

Once we get to eight, he’s on the ground.

Now, I know what you are thinking. You are wondering why I haven’t picked this child up and deposited him into the car already. Well, let me tell you why… he gets his feelings SO HURT when I do this. He will literally start crying and continue whimpering until we pull into Daycare and I will not be responsible for making him start off his day that way.

And like everything with Lee, I know this is just a phase. A phase that, in the grand scheme of my life, will not have lasted nearly long enough.

Where were we? Right, he’s on the ground.

Numerous different things can take place at this point, so for times’ sake, I will just tell you what happened this morning.

“Mommy, do you hear that cow?”

“Yes baby, come on now, let’s get you in your seat.”

“Hang on just a second Mom, I have to talk to him.”

“MMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,” he yells in the general direction of the cow.

“Alright, look at you! You made his day, now come on, let’s go!”

“Mommy, that wasn’t a cow! That was an elephant! I have to see him. Do you see him? Where is he?”

“Baby, there is no elephant. Get. In. The. Car. Now.”

***Lee yelling an elephant noise and waving an arm around like a trunk.***

Luckily, while doing this, he started walking. He is about halfway to the car from the house now.

“Man, those are the best elephant noises I’ve ever heard. You’re the best elephant caller I have ever seen,” I tell him.

“Yes, I am the best,” he says.

“I want hmmm… maybe… hmm… biscuits,” he tells me as he starts walking towards me again.

“Look now, I don’t know what you are having for breakfast, but if you’ll just get in the car, we will go to school and find out.”

“Maybe a Nutrigrain bar. Strawberry Nutrigrain bar.”

“Maybe, bud,” I say. Right as he closes the gap and steps so we are toe to toe.

I pick him up, put him in his seat, buckle him in, kiss his face, close his door, get into the driver’s seat, fasten my seat belt, and turn around to back out of my parking spot.

Only to catch him staring at me.

“I love you Mommy,” he says.

“I love you baby,” I say back to him.

“Now, racing speed! Ready Mommy? Let’s race. LET’S RACE!!” he’s yelling in the backseat as we turn out of the driveway.

And yes, Evie is doing absolutely wonderful as well. And much, much easier than her brother in the mornings. We’ll have to wait and see how long it takes to get out of the house once they are both talking…

xxx A


One Comment Add yours

  1. Marty says:

    Love the stories. Keep them coming


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