Laughter, Life

Life in my Fast Lane

Beep…Beep…Beep! Rise n’ Shine.  Time to get out of bed (or not). So I hit the snooze for another nine.  Beep…Beep….Beep! OKAY, I’M UP! C’mon coffee, hit my cup! GULP!

Spend 40 more or so to sip and savor, its my quiet time for today.  Well before the dog starts barking and sun rises up.  Before the neighbors car alarm goes off…AGAIN. And before my cute lil’ monsters (aka my three sons) tear me it up.

Shower time by default not choice.  Yoga calls but getting two of three to school may be more in line with truancy laws.  So for the next hour I primp and prune and make myself all nicey nice.  Yes, that is one hour or 60 minutes to get ready.

Okay folks, listen, I have no idea why it takes so long.  I attribute it to the fact that it takes FOREVER to blow dry my mane.  It does, 15 minutes to be exact.  Yet, I have found this can be a very meditative hour.  I get a lot accomplished while the heat, product and hair straightener damage my hair.  A lot of thoughts go on during this time.  I call it my pre-day warm-up!  You know, the mental kind where you get yourself all psyched for the big play of the game (aka a day in the life of me in my fast lane).

Now three whole minutes  of the sixty goes go into making my bed. So cut me some slack.  Yes, I am one of those people who makes their bed every single day faithfully in sickness and in health.  Perhaps I spend more than the three minutes because I am a sucker for pillows.  I have my two king size pillows and one standard.  That each night I enclose around me like some kind of shield.  Then I have two Euro pillows.  Everyone should have Euro pillows.  Well, at least all the cute bedding catalogs say you should. Followed by my two standard pillows wrapped in their fancy pillow shams.  Then decorative pillow #1, #2 and a neck roll.  Not done just yet… finally the addition of the throw blanket at the foot of the bed.  Why, cause it just looks sweet when it’s complete!

Now onto the fun stuff.  I have strategically gotten this down to a tee.  The getting three kids up, dressed, somewhat presentable (for school) fed and out the door in forty-five. I have found it best, if the stars are all aligned, to do this in 15 minute increments from order of oldest to youngest.  Six out of ten times it works like a charm.  I’ll take those odds.

Child #1 up and for the most part he is pretty self-sufficient except for the gel’ed up hair-do only his crazy, bed keeping mommy can accomplish.  Child #2 (aka as the middle child).  Need I say more? Fine, for those of you who may not understand, the middle child has two options. To be stuck in the middle and lost in the shuffle or to challenge the norm and make himself known.  I have the latter option.  So sometimes I have to borrow minutes from child #1 and #3 to get #2 accomplished. Tired yet?  Hope not, it’s only 7:30 a.m.

Off to Child #3.  Assuming he did not play Houdini and disappear from his crib, we will be alright if he also didn’t soil threw his diaper.  Seriously as if these things don’t cost enough, they have to leak too.  Cant’ they make a nighttime diaper out of bullet proof vest material or something.  They have jean diapers for goodness sake.  We DO NOT want fashion, we want protection!

Now to get out the door.  Shoes, hat, scarves, mittens, lunch one, lunch two and lunch three.  Oh wait, school bags and my briefcase and my gym bag.  Now into the car, strap in and no you cannot watch a movie and have gum.  Keys would be good.  Back inside and hello doggy, I forgot to let you back in.  Your muddy, perfect! My lunch, my purse and a deep, deep breath. Namaste!

Kid one to school, kid two to daycare and kid three to school.  Now, I have no idea what just happened the past three hours but I can tell you that my car is programmed to proceed directly to Starbucks.  It’s bad, they recognize my car so I do not even have to place my order at the drive thru any longer.  They just tell me to pull up if I want my usual and they even call me honey.  You may have guessed it, it is not the coffee of the day.  Rather a Venti, one pump, soy, no whip extra shot (of espresso) mocha.  I now have another 15 minute commute to regroup prior to arriving at my office by 9:00 a.m. Four hours in the bag! Whew!

Time to rock and roll and play sales lady turned marriage counselor turned bill collector all day long.  Sometimes I get to be a punching bag and other days I am my clients’ best friend.  Yet, at the end of the business day, I sold a few, saved a few and possibly even scared a few.

Rush to pick my kiddies up from various locations.  The next three hours will be consumed with sports practice, dinner, baths, showers, cleaning, homework, returning a text or two and making lunches.  Bedtime stories, diaper rigging, teeth brushing, vitamin giving and tucking my lil’ monsters back into bed.  So, I sit at about 9:30 p.m. and ponder what to do next.  Laundry? Clean? Reality TV? Facebook? Call a friend?  And before I know it zzz…zzz…zzz…1:00 a.m.  Oh no, I have to get up in four hours to REPEAT.  But that beautifully made bed is calling me for now.  Good Night!


8 thoughts on “Life in my Fast Lane”

  1. What a wonderfully descriptive article. It sounds like a friend of mine and even though I do not have children of my own, reading this makes me exhausted. It also makes me appreciative of what a dedicated, hard working, strong woman does every day for her children. Not that this writer is asking for hand outs, but I admire her. I admire her will, her love, her dedication, her motivation, her strength and her vulnerability to put this in black and white for the public to read. I only pray that she continues to have the strength and support she needs to continue this “fast lane” life style. Some may think she has no choice. Others may think, forget this and be selfish and pawn their children off or not give them what they need. This woman is wonderful and I see her as a model working mother that many can learn from!!!

  2. Just this morning, I wondered how it takes me a full ninety minutes to get up and out the door, and my children are grown! Seriously, I know I hit snooze a few times, but that shouldn’t allot for the extra half hour. And it’s so true that someone else’s morning looks similar but vastly different from your own. Balance, my friend . . . you hit it with balance!

Leave a Reply!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s