I long for mornings filled with the sound of birds singing and the beauty of a sunrise. I dream of having enough time to prepare a wholesome breakfast for my kids, sitting together in my favorite robe while sipping herbal tea, enjoying fresh fruit, and granola. I would trade anything for a smooth school morning that doesn’t leave me feeling like I just sprinted a marathon.
The reality of our morning routine, however, is a constant test of my patience, no matter how well I try to plan ahead the night before. Even if I manage to pack lunches and arrange them neatly from oldest to youngest, there’s always a last-minute hiccup—like someone waving a forgotten permission slip in my face while I struggle to apply my mascara.
If I get all the paperwork signed and organized in their binders, it seems to trigger a wardrobe crisis. My daughter insists on wearing the only pair of jeans that are dirty because “OMG, Mom, these shoes only go with that.” Cue the dramatic meltdown.
And just when I think we’re ready to head out the door, my youngest lets the dog escape, leading to a neighborhood chase that ends in trash cans. My oldest is frustrated because his hair won’t cooperate, and out of nowhere, I remember I was supposed to bake two dozen cupcakes for the school event—except I forgot to make any!
Every single morning is a hectic mess, and my frazzled look—often sporting mascara on just one eye—is the last thing my kids see before they leave. My rushed “I love you, have a great day, but let’s try to do better tomorrow” comes out as they walk away. Watching them leave fills me with guilt; I could easily shed a tear over my half-eaten toast.
I worry that this chaotic start sets a negative tone for their day, just as it does for mine. I constantly think about how to improve our mornings, striving to be more organized and avoiding threats of taking away screen time or treats. I eagerly await their return home so I can make things right and ease my guilt.
When they finally come home from school, I embrace them and ask how their day went. I find myself giving them an extra cookie (thanks to the guilt) and pouring all my efforts into planning for the next morning. But soon enough, they begin bickering, or they ignore my requests to help with dinner or put away laundry. Shoes are left scattered around, and I trip. The dog, who I’ve asked them to take out multiple times, has an accident because no one listened.
Before I know it, I’ve lost my patience again—parenting is truly a long and challenging journey. Kids require countless reminders for even the simplest tasks and are blissfully unaware of the guilt that weighs on their parents when things don’t go smoothly.
At dinner, when I ask them to share their favorite part of the day, I get responses like, “When you tripped over my shoes” or “When my permission slip stuck to your lip gloss,” leading to uncontrollable laughter. When I apologize for seeming stressed in the mornings and mention my desire to improve, they simply stare blankly. My oldest even asks, “You were stressed-out?” and he genuinely doesn’t understand.
To them, I’m simply the source of entertainment, and despite my chaotic mornings, they still love me. It’s a reminder that while I strive for perfection, their affection remains unwavering, even amidst the mess.
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In summary, the morning chaos is an everyday reality filled with stress and guilt, but ultimately, the love from my children overshadows the turmoil. Each day is a new opportunity to try again and create better experiences together.