Updated: Aug. 22, 2015
Originally Published: Jan. 4, 2013
This morning, I couldn’t help but chuckle at a first grader who toppled a line of bicycles. She was running late, dragging her bike the last few steps before leaving it at the entrance of the principal’s office. “Hurry up!” her mom pleaded. “The bell just rang!” Their footsteps echoed down the sidewalk in a familiar frantic rhythm. As for me, I was wrapping up my own chaotic morning routine, having just nudged my five-year-old, Liam, into his kindergarten class seconds before the bell rang.
I had already walked past the little girl when I heard the clatter. In her rush, she had tossed her bike into the neatly lined-up array of colorful handlebars and princess helmets. They toppled like dominoes, and when the last bike landed at the feet of another surprised parent, I burst into laughter.
Not out of malice, mind you (though I might have irritated her mother), but because mornings are just hard. I totally get it, little ponytailed girl. If I had a bike and a princess helmet, I’d probably toss them into the rack too, as my own way of saying “screw you” to a world that moves too quickly and expects too much from little ones. Oh wait—that’s my everyday life.
Every single morning, my partner and I argue over our completely ineffective routine. “We really need to come up with a better plan,” I hiss at him while wrestling Liam into his shirt and dragging him to brush his teeth. We’ve even consulted a parenting coach. “You should discover what motivates him,” she advised in that annoyingly simplistic tone that all experts seem to adopt. So, we tried.
Sticker charts in the morning? Total fail. Five-year-olds couldn’t care less about stickers when they’re determined to squeeze out every last chaotic drop of toothpaste. And don’t even get me started on the clock. Being on time with small children is a losing battle. Potty breaks, finding clothes, brushing teeth (with the right amount of toothpaste, of course), combing hair (which always seems to hurt), and hunting for shoes can feel like a never-ending saga.
And that’s just one child. Each morning, we stumble through this madness, moving slower than molasses in winter. I’m the frantic mom, panicking like a hawk at the park, terrified my child will fall off the jungle gym. It’s pure chaos, especially on days when I don’t even get a shower or put on makeup. We always seem to be short on time, patience, and any motivational tactics that would impress glossy parenting magazines. If I had a bike to throw, I’d gladly toss my coffee at the wall—if I didn’t need it so much.
Of course, I understand that we’re trying to raise our kids to be responsible individuals—good citizens who manage their time and recognize how their actions impact those around them. There are countless articles about doing just that, but this isn’t one of them.
This is an open invitation to join the “I’m Glad You’re Here” club. Mornings are tough for every parent, including you and me. So, dear parking lot attendant, instead of chastising us with “The BELL just rang! Hurry!” when we arrive at school, I propose a different greeting.
On behalf of all the weary, overwhelmed parents out there, I’d appreciate it if you greeted us with a warm, “Good morning! I’m glad you made it!”
“I’m glad you made it” when you see the mom with a wet ponytail struggling to wrangle her baby out of the car seat while holding her kindergartner’s hand. “I’m glad you made it” when the first grader flings her bike at the rack in frustration. “I’m glad you made it” when a five-year-old with tousled hair strolls through the classroom door at 8:34 am. I recognize the effort you’re making. I understand how hard it is for them to navigate this world and how often they don’t manage to do it quickly enough. We can learn together.
We have all the time in the world to criticize ourselves for how fast the minutes fly by. After tucking our kids in at night, when they finally settle down, we count the seconds between their breaths, the number of stories before they drift off, and the hours they sleep before waking again. We count the years that have slipped away, the days we’re grateful for, and those we wish would last forever.
So please don’t rush us. Not yet. Our children will spend their lives feeling pressured and berating themselves for not being quick enough. We know this all too well. Mornings are tough. If I could play with Legos on my way to the bathroom or toss my bike into the rack like that little girl, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
Sometimes, simply showing up deserves recognition. So tomorrow, when your daughter drops her backpack in a puddle and my son stops to collect every stick in sight, I’ll catch your eye and share a laugh. We can hurry later. But for now, I’m genuinely glad you made it.
For more insights into parenting, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination at Rmany. And if you’re interested in artificial insemination, you can find more information in this post about at-home insemination kits. Also, don’t miss out on learning about bike-sharing here.
Summary:
Mornings are challenging for parents trying to juggle the demands of their children’s routines. This article humorously explores the chaos of mornings and advocates for a more understanding approach from those who witness the daily struggle of parents. Instead of rushing, let’s celebrate the small victories of simply making it through the morning.