Friday, March 3, 2017
My Morning Rush Hour 3/31 #sol17
But that is not my morning rush hour.
My rush hour happens before I am in my car.
Toddler begging for cookies. Dogs wanting to go outside, wanting to come inside, wanting to go back outside. Cat dashing through my legs, desperately trying to escape.
Taking a bite of a bagel. Trying to find the other shoe. Made my tea. Took a sip. Set it down. Forgot about it. Remembered it. Now it's a cold sip.
Running upstairs to find clothes for toddler and wake up my husband. Running downstairs to dress toddler while she doesn't take her eyes off of Elmo on the TV. Running back upstairs to wake up my husband, again. This time with more volume.
Back downstairs, time for hugs and kisses. Throw some food in my lunchbag. Tears from the toddler and cries of one more hug and one more kiss. Hug and kiss for my husband.
Grab my bags. Grab my keys. Throw on my coat. Out the door. Back in the door. Looking for my wallet. More tears from the toddler. One more kiss. Back out the door. Load everything in the car.
Crying toddler in the window. Cue the mommy guilt. Start the car. Back out of the driveway. Pull away.
Now it is quiet. I can breathe. Sitting in traffic. Stuck in my car.
My morning rush hour is over.
I love my calm commute time.