: I roll out of bed than I told myself I would last night. Immediately remind Taylor he needs to be at the garage shop five minutes ago. He runs out the door and I go to perform my regular morning muscle flexes in the mirror.
Some days the humidity and lack of regular bathing catch up to me, and this morning was one of them. As I am stepping into the tub, I suddenly remember the kids' bank account numbers were inside my wallet that disappeared and I haven't told the bank yet.
Cue heart attack.
Also remember I need to talk to a guy at my college asap.
Also remember I have a strategy to rewrite for a social media campaign that launches soon and two emails to respond to from that company.
Pause the shower. Now is not the time. I begin the daily hunt for my cellphone. Naked, obviously.
Tune in to the fact the apartment is suspiciously quiet and Arrow is nowhere to be found.
Find my delinquent child frolicking in the walking-stick-and-deer-infested woods. Luckily, none of the college kids that usually take my sidewalk happen to be strolling by. Imagine that morning surprise ;)
Find cellphone and call school. No one answers.
Call bank, and realize I'm two hours ahead of their opening time.
Give up being on being a responsible person and return to shower. Archer is thrilled at the prospect of watching me shower (why are kids like this) and follows me step for step. I am stepping into the tub for the second time this morning when I hear a loud sizzle. It ain't the shower. As it would be this fine day, Archer is not wearing a diaper.
Mop up pee. Forget to put a new diaper on.
Ten minutes have passed from my first attempt at showering, I go for a third try. This is when Arrow reappears with dusty brown hands and a beaming grin. She proudly shares her firsthand experience at eating a bag of brown sugar.
Cue the scold cheerfully deflected by a three year who doesn't care.
Finally get in shower. Note: The work it took me to get to this point is also why I never shower anymore.
Come out shiny clean and discover there are no clean pants. For those who don't have children, please note that "no clean pants" doesn't mean: "Oh I wore these pants three times in a row and probably should wash them before another go". This means: "Oh I wore these pants three times in a row with someone else's leftover breakfast that's starting to smell and I really should put something else on."
Go to drop a load in the wash, find last nights wash of cloth diapers that still need to be hung asap. Mildew is a serious deal in these humid parts.
Spend five minutes hanging cloth diapers.
Wash ALL the pants. Put on t-shirt.
Come to acknowledge my life from from henceforward is designated to live in our bathroom for an indeterminable amount of time. I turn on the bathtub for the kids. Arrow flings herself in with admirable speed. Archer has disappeared.
Locate half-naked baby playing with plugs and bring him to bathtub. He sees the bath and pees from excitement. On my foot.
Drop him in, too.
A wild Taylor appears and says the garage shop doesn't accept debit cards. We'll have to write a check instead. Spend next four minutes looking in piles for a checkbook that was on my desk all along. Hurriedly sign check and shoo Taylor out the door.
Go back to bathing children. Use these next phrases on repeat at least six times each:
-quit using soap on your brother
-oh that's cool
-oh good job
-stop using soap on your brother
-yes that's really cool
-put the soap back
I'm ordering the children from afar while sitting on a pillow because the floor is hard on the tush.
Bath time ends.
Clean and squeaking* children are evicted from the bathroom.
Taylor arrives home. I hand off the kids to hide in our bedroom and write down this crazy morning.
Now I have to quickly read my next class' prep. I'm a bit stressed because I missed the last class and have no idea what we're studying now. I'll leave , likely without breakfast, makeup, or any semblance of brushed hair. The lecture will likely be incredibly interesting and I'll re-commit to waking up at 6 so I don't fall behind again. I'll stress about the work until I actually sit down to do it. Then I'll just be excited and happy I still get to do marketing on the side. I'll come home later to kids who want nothing more than stories and to run wild with the ticks and chiggers. Eventually the kids will go to sleep while Taylor and I talk until midnight gossiping about the Flash and repeatedly scold ourselves for not going to sleep sooner.
But hey, that's college.