There are certain things that should not happen before 7am.
The phone should not ring. The neighbors gardener shouldn’t use his blower outside my bedroom window.
And my children should not be playing with Play Doh.
Yet here we are. 6:59 on a Wednesday and we’re elbow deep in Play Doh. Mommy confession: Play Doh is NOT my jam. Most of this is because I’m a control freak monster. Yes, I’m one of those people that spends way too much time and energy making sure none of the doh colors touch. If I have to sit and play endlessly with it, I at least need to be touching vibrant pinks and blues and neon greens. Getting orders from my son the likes of, “Make me a bicycle, clown!” are just too depressing when I have to use a color that is far to close to that of my baby’s endless poops.
And frankly, it requires far more parental supervision that I’m ready to provide this early in the day. My day is a carefully constructed model shaped around when I’m most prepared to tend to my children’s needs.
An average day is as follows:
Continue reading “6:59 am”