Yet Another Reason Why I Am Thankful I Don't Work Outside the Home

I can't imagine getting myself and two two year olds out of the house in a timely manner each morning! The INSANITY!

Background...

This morning it is rainy, cold and dreary. It's one of those days you just want to stay in bed, cuddled under the covers. It happens that today is a MMO day too. My alarm went off early this morning. I hit snooze several times and then debated upon taking them. After a few minutes of internal conflict, I jumped out of bed, got ready and headed upstairs to start the morning routine with the kids.

It was Kathryn's turn to get ready first so Isaac spent a few more minutes in his crib. Kathryn is so easy to get ready at the moment. No complaining, no crying, no trying to escape during a diaper change, no refusal of pants. We enjoy a little conversation and presto! She's dressed and ready to go. Isaac, on the other hand, is a pill to get ready right now. He fusses when I get him out of the crib, he cries when I place him on the changing table, he screams if I don't let him take off his sleeping socks, he wants a wipe, he doesn't want a wipe, he doesn't want his diaper changed, he doesn't want THAT shirt, he doesn't want PANTS. It is an all-out wrestling match to change and dress this child each and every morning.

After our match this morning, I asked him to throw the diapers away for me. Usually this snaps him out of his funk and we can get through the rest of our morning routine relatively unscathed. Not this morning...of course, not this morning...when we need to be loading up no later than 8:10. He carries the diapers over to the door that leads to the attic space where we hide our diaper pail and immediately throws a temper tantrum. He can't open the door. (When before he could open the door carrying two diapers with no problem.) He throws one diaper to the floor and begins to cry and wail. So I go over and open the door for him. BIG mistake! His crying and wailing escalates. I try to ignore him, which usually helps, and reach down to pick up the diaper on the floor. As I reach the diaper, WHAM! I'm whacked with the door right above my right eye! Isaac has decided HE wants to open the door, so he attempts to slam it shut, right as I am reaching down for the diaper on the floor near the door.

In typical Mommy of the Year fashion, I lose it. Yelling ensues, I quickly grab both diapers, slam them into the pail, slam the door shut and tell both children they better straighten up and get their little behinds downstairs. Isaac, of course, loses it at this point. He knows Mommy is upset and immediately begins crying. Kathryn has no clue what just happened, but knows Mommy has lost it, and she starts crying as well. I scoop both up, carry them downstairs and plop them into their highchairs, praying I get it under control quickly. My head is pounding, the knot already starting to form.

Both children sit silently in their highchairs while I prepare their French Toast. I take several deep breaths and ask them if they want syrup. "Yes, Mommy," both reply. Before blessing the food, I give Isaac a big hug and tell him that Mommy still loves him. I do the same with Kathryn. Peace is restored, we enjoy our breakfast and make it out of the house by 8:05.

I so could not do this each and every morning...