Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Not a fan of this "morning" thing

This is something I don't want to forget in later years.

It begins at 5:00.

Taylor's phone blares out the wake-up call. It's the most annoying and evil thing T-mobile has ever made. I wake up instantly angry with everyone and everything. The mood only increases as it takes Taylor a thousand minutes (Read: 7 seconds) to turn it off. I curl in a little ball of self pity until I doze off again while Taylor is forced out of bed to get ready for the day. He has about 30 minutes to shower, eat, and get dressed, all as quietly as possible so as to not wake the baby.

At 5:20, he whispers my name, and I'm awake again. (Seriously, all it takes is a whisper to wake either of us up.  Which is lame when you have a newborn bunking in your room.) I roll off the high bed and tug on my coat, boots, and glasses. I stuff my wallet and keys in my pockets. I gently pick up Arrow from her crib and put her in her carseat. She stretches her little arms upwards and I always laugh at my T-Rex daughter because her arms can't reach past her head.



Little T-Rex arms
Once the Fussbucket realizes what's going on, the wailing begins. Being strapped to a chair against her will is the worst thing in the world. I move fast and head upstairs to get the car going. Taylor, with a little more freedom to make noise, is able to move more quickly about through the house, collecting things as he goes. Every morning we vow to be more prepared, and most nights we feel too tired to actually do anything about it.

With the strange warm weather we've been having, we don't usually have to clear the windshield before we go. Thank goodness. We all pack into the car and make the 20 minutes to the train station. Sometimes Arrow falls asleep on the drive. Other times she babbles to herself in the backseat. At the station, Taylor drops a kiss on my cheek with an "I love you!" and books it to the train.

6:00. Taylor is on the train for a 2 hour commute to school. Because that's what you do when you're married with a new baby.

6:30. We've returned home, and I give Arrow breakfast. I force myself to eat a couple pieces of toast. Food is hard to eat first thing in the morning. If we're lucky, Arrow falls back asleep and I pass out on the couch for a little while before I get up for the day.

9:00. It's time for 2nd breakfast and playtime for Arrow. We chat, look in the mirror, and look through all the windows. Tobi comes along and we pet her if she's in a nice mood. Then I sit her down to do some chores and do some day prep. Arrow complains* to be sitting down in her chair, but it's really not possible to shower and hold her at the same time. I pack lunches, school bag, and the diaper bag. It feels good to dress up nice for my business class.

*By complain, I mean she cries, wails, and occasionally screams.

11:30. Arrow and I head out to Salt Lake for school. I am carrying a diaper bag, carseat, lunch bag, and a smoothie. I feel funky fresh with a banana-blueberry smoothie in hand. Arrow resumes her car babbling until she drifts off for her late morning nap. As I drive, I sip my smoothie and choreograph dance scenes in my head. Lately I've been rockin' out to Lindsey Stirling. Sometimes I get so caught up on a phrase, that I catch myself going a wee bit over the speed limit. Obviously, I do really well at contributing to Utah's bad drivers reputation.

12:00. Taylor and I are both on some form of commute to reach my school. There I'll pass off Arrow and dash to class. I'm so grateful that we were able to make our schedules work so that I could keep learning and have a break from the baby.

Luckily this schedule only happens 3 times a week. I know it could be a lot worse. And that there are some people who could be totally fine and happy with it. I wish I was one of you excellent people.

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