I get more done
on weekday mornings from 6:30 to 8:30 than I do any other part of the day,
including some days at the office, drilling teeth for crown and bridge. When that dreaded alarm clock rings, I pop out of bed, and my heart races from 0-60mph in 3
seconds flats. I feel around for my eyeglasses (too chicken to go for Lasik), trip
over a few toys and hangers in the hallway, and make my way into the rooms of my three sleeping
beauties, as my Mom used to sarcastically call my two sisters and me when we
refused to get up in the morning.
My repeated pleas
for my twin 9-year-old girls to lay out the clothes the night before that they
want to wear the next day fall on deaf ears, so one of two things happen: they
tear their closets apart looking for something cute (and clean!) or they go to
school with an atrocious, mismatched outfit. When the latter happens, I tell my
friends that I had a board meeting and it was Michael's turn to dress them.
My eldest,
12-year-old daughter attends a private school, so she wears a uniform. You'd
think this would simplify things. But it doesn't. Someone has to wash all these
blue blouses, skirts, sweaters, navy socks and "fleece" and that
someone is yours truly! Thankfully, however, she is pretty much auto-pilot in
the mornings and is on her school bus by 7:05 am.
Making the twins' lunches in the morning is
usually met with the falling in to queue for me to do their hair for the day,
brush and "pretties" (what we call ponytail holders in my house,
which seem to be disposable; I am pretty
sure I'm putting Mr. Scunci's -- the hair accessories maker -- children through
college with the money I spend at CVS on his stuff).
As I place their
lunches in their school bags, the eggs are sizzling in the frying pan... two
eggs scrambled and two eggs over easy, because twins liking their eggs the same
way would be too easy and less annoying.
For third grade last year, it was cold cereal and whole milk and a
banana if I had gone to Key Food the night before. Then, at Costco, I noticed
they were piling my cart high with Frosted Flakes and Cocoa Puffs. That was the end of cereal.
At the bus stop,
I find a 5 minutes reprieve from the hustle and bustle that is my morning when
I get to chit-chat with other bus stop moms. They are smart and funny and
usually snap me out of daily
early-morning heart attack. But as soon as the bus pulls away, I rush home,
clean up breakfast dishes, put a load of the aforementioned blue uniforms (and
towels for their swim practices) in the washer.
Then, I chop up
some onions and potatoes and put them in the slow cooker. Add to that mix some soy sauce, paprika, baby
carrots and chicken breasts (thick sliced, because the thin slices are more
expensive and it's all thin, anyway, if you slices it up into strips) that I
defrosted the night before... and voila--
dinner will hopefully be ready tonight at 5 pm. I make sure to press the "on"
button.
At this point I
breathe a sigh of relief. I saunter upstairs and put my makeup on, pop my
contacts in, tie my Medusa hair into a bun, and head to work. My children have
recently taught me how to blast some dance music on from my iPhone while docked
in the iHome thingy, so all that blares on while mentally mentally make the transformation
from "mom" to dentist."
My patients
sometimes ask me why I'm always in such a great, happy mood at home. Truth be told, my hours at the office are my
relaxation. My hours at home, being the best mom I can be for my three
daughters, is the real work.
