It’s busy. It’s fun. It’s overwhelming. It’s spontaneous. It’s scheduled. It’s organized. It’s messy. It’s amazing. It’s everything, rolled into one, starting and ending.
Work day mornings are like a well-oiled machine. We each have our parts. We know them well and we play them well. It’s like I never went on maternity leave and we are right back to the same circus each morning. Jon gets up, works out, showers. I wake up, feed the baby, pump. I hand over the baby and jump in the shower while he juggles her and gets Peanut’s breakfast ready. Peanut wakes up, I jump out of the shower. We all run circles around one another, grabbing things, getting dressed, preparing the bottles, packing breakfast and lunches. The baby gets passed between the adults and sometimes even the toddler gets a turn. The tot drinks her milk on the couch while watching Micky Mouse Club House. Somewhere we get everyone dressed (or not, some mornings), shoes laced up, bags packed, and headed out the door. It’s busy. It’s organized. It’s scheduled. And it’s incredible. Incredible what an amazing team we make.
The days that I stay home are laid back. We still get up and get dressed and ready, but there is no urgency. No time constraints. We joke a little more. We do silly dances. The tot runs around like she’s a wild monkey. The baby gurgles and “yells” at us. We kiss daddy good bye and head out within the hour. There is always something to do, just the way we like it.
Weekends are spontaneous. There is always too much to do, but we make time for the small things too. Trips to the playground. Ice cream downtime. Dinner at the beach.
I couldn’t have it any other way. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Except for maybe all the laundry. I swear socks mingle with shirts and make pants. Then they all go at it like rabbits. Until my basket is overflowing and I’m begging for mercy.