Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Morning routine, why do I hate you so much right now?

Hi all. If bad mornings are rated on a scale from 1 to 10, with 1 being "eh. Not terrible, I'll live," and 10 being "well that really SUCKED," then today's morning would get a solid 7, I'm thinking.

That does make two stressful mornings in a row, doesn't it? I know I'm not alone in this. Fall means adjusting to new routines for many people, and it simply takes time to get it all worked out. I know  that rushed morning routines are small potatoes in the global scale of things, it just helps to laugh at ourselves sometimes, right? Otherwise I'll go watch the news and cry again.

Monday, Wednesday, Friday are the culprits. Mike has an 8 am class, and so he drops Henry off at school around 7:30, as Henry's school begins at 7:45. This works out, but it's a close squeeze for him, time-wise. Meanwhile,  Anne and I are back at home, and I feel like I've got ants in my pants, because I like to be on my way to work by 8 am. I have frequent 9 am reference shifts and meetings, and so I like to be settled in my office around the 8:30 mark, booting up, brewing tea, checking email. Well, that's not possible right now, because I have to drop Anne at pre-K, and the doors don't open there until 8:15. And her school is in the opposite direction of the university that I work at.


The past two mornings (Mike can usually take her Tuesdays, but I went along yesterday because it was her first day) have been misery. It's nice lounging with Anne for a half hour after Mike and Henry leave, but after that (let's examine this particular morning, shall we?), it's a cannon ball run:

"All right, Team Umizoomi is over! (God help me). Quick! Let's brush your teeth and get your shoes on! No, Anne, you can't take your (fill in the blank random toy) to school. Shoes! Where's your backpack?!"

We hustle to the car and get underway. Inevitable near occasions of sin involving other cars and garbage trucks ensue. We arrive. Anne drops her illicitly smuggled (fill in the blank random toy) and it scurries underneath my car as she disembarks. I have to climb down on my hands and knees to get it, gathering dirt and grass as I do so. Toy gets tucked back into the car. We hurry to the door, where we...wait until 8:15 for the doors to open.


8:15 comes, I hustle her to the door for a goodbye kiss, and then I jet back to my car down the street. By 8:20 I am underway to campus. I arrive around 8:42, and guess what? Yep, staff parking lot FULL. AGAIN, I might add. I drive to a further-away student lot, park, and walk. I arrive on my floor of the library, a bit sweaty and disheveled, at 8:55. I quickly unpack my lunch, boot up my computer, and race down to the reference desk, pre-packed coffee mug in hand. The day I forget that mug, dear reader...well, you're really not going to want to read the post I write THAT day.

I get down to the reference desk, and find out that the entire ground floor of the library has no power. Delightful. People are scurrying all about, creating signs to put up announcing this unfortunate state of powerless affairs. One of my colleagues, the sweetest man ever, but a *talker*, kwim?! comes to the  reference desk to create a sign. And begins talking to me. About very random things. I have a class to plan for, plus I was rather hoping to work on this post during quiet moments. No quiet moments for Tiffany this morning, no sir. SO MUCH CHATTING. And there's no polite way to make the "I couldn't *possibly* care less, can't you see this legal pad I keep stealing looks at?!" face. So I had to chat about current films and other events until he wandered off. These are the moments whereby I am *dying* for a student to come up to the reference desk demanding that I try and help them procure an imaginary, free library copy of their textbooks.

After he left, I put up the "Librarian will be right back!" sign, grabbed my legal pad, and headed into the reference stacks to grab a few encyclopedias for my class. When I returned, two officious men wearing i.d. badges were circling the reference desk in an ominous manner:

"We're here doing an inspection relating to the power outage. We see a violation relating to your power strip. You will have to power down your machine."

In all my years, I tell you, this is a first. There goes my budding lesson plan. Of course, the reference desk machine picks THAT MOMENT to install a *#@!load of updates before it will power down. I think it was giving the inspection guys the virtual finger.

What feels like many minutes later, I boot back up the reference computer and open my fledgling lesson plan. I reject my initial flock of encyclopedias and go back for others. I finally piece something coherent together.

By the end of my shift, I was feeling scattered and edgy. I could also feel my hair curling and expanding due to the humidity in the air. It wasn't the greatest of mornings, I suppose. But here I am, finishing lunch, and I'm still in one piece, so how bad could it be?

How was *your* morning, dear reader? Here's raising my cute orange water bottle to coming up with ways to improve our morning routines! :)


  1. Well since you asked...

    Last night shortly after dinner, Knee collided with the corner of two walls and put a gash in between his eyes. He got five stitches at urgent care.

    But usually our mornings look like thus. Me get up at 5:30 and swallow pill. Go back to bed. Wake at 6ish and commence making breakfast. 6:30 drag small tired children out of bed. Try and convince them to eat something. Take shower while dad wrestles them into the bathroom to brush their teeth.

    Convince the older one to let me put clothes on him while he watches tv otherwise there are strong objections to going to school. Try and wrangle franken-baby into clothing. Explain to husband that he is not cooperating and I will need his help. Things are complicated because 1)he hates clothing 2)he is picky about what he wears and 3)he has stitches in his head right where I have to gingerly put a shirt-he-won't-refuse-to-wear over his head hoping he will not thrash in protest. I end up telling them they can eat frozen go-gurts on the walk to school.

    We walk ten minutes to school using the red wagon which results in "he's squashing me" and violent screaming because someone is touching someone and will not move. Drop off older child. Bring franken-baby home who rips off clothes. Repeat in the afternoon. Maybe if Knee gets into pre-school I will have the added bonus of convincing him to get in the car, in his car seat, and strap him in. He actually does better when we walk although lately he's not been so bad.


  2. Laura, aw, poor little head! Sorry to hear that. :( And yes, it sounds like your mornings are a challenge as well. Godspeed on all of this, we're in this together! <3


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