Because maybe that’s why I showed up here today, not with anything deep, but to make you feel better about yourself. Speaking of cars, here’s a thing I’ve actually done and I’m not too proud to confess. After 10 years of submitting a weekly column, it’s only now begun to surprise me. I’m sitting down now, in the calm after the storm, and I desperately want to be profound, but honestly I’m just happy I remembered I had a deadline in the first place. By the time we’re all up, dressed, fed, brushed, clothed, snacked, packed and buckled into the car, I’ve played the part of lawyer, cook, zookeeper, stylist, housekeeper, secretary, barista, chauffeur and, depending on what kind of morning the 4-year-old is having, therapist, all in an hour and a half’s time. These days I’m sweating before 7 a.m., and it’s not because I got myself into a morning workout routine. We have to wake up early because, after pulling them out from under the covers, it takes my children at least an hour of coaxing and back rubbing and sweet talking turned to hollering “open your eyeballs!” for my dear darling daughters to be convinced that it’s time to start another day.īefore kids, mornings were my slow roll into creativity, the time I would take to myself to sip coffee, reflect and come up with something to ponder for publication. when they lock the doors of the elementary school, forcing you and your child to make the walk of shame to the front office and sign in as a tardy kid. We have to wake up early to make it to town before 8:20 a.m.
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