We are still Newlyweds. There is something about a morning routine that helps make you ready to tackle the day. We are the set a few alarms type so we can wake up slowly, snuggle a little, help persuade each other to get up or we are going to be late. Our last few minutes of calm and ability to focus on each other before diving into the chaos. It’s a very important time in the day. This morning went a little differently.
The first alarm this morning went off at 6:30 am. As I always do, I re-positioned myself closer to David to happily doze till the next alarm in 8 minutes. As I waited for light sleep to overtake me, I was wrestling with myself about whether or not my full morning bladder could wait 8 minutes. And then it hit me. I wish I could say it was the first time, but it wasn’t, and it won’t be the last I’m sure.
“We didn’t Tooth Fairy!!!”
“Gosh babe, you scared me.”
“I’m sorry. We didn’t tooth fairy. We have to get up.”
That last part was of course being said as I was already bolting out of bed in a bit of a panic and David was watching his calm part of the morning disappear. (Panic brought to you by the fact that I am still haunted by the morning just after we married that a crying child entered our room convinced that the tooth fairy had forgotten her. And it just so happens this was the same kid.) He tried to reason with me.
“You still want to do it?!”
“We HAVE to!”
“There’s no way. It’s too late.”
“But she will cry. I don’t want her to start her day that way. I gotta pee. I can’t think till I pee.”
My bladder had caught up with me so I am now calling from the bathroom. David was still trying to reason.
“We can do it tomorrow. We can come up with something. We always do.”
“She will be at her other dad’s tonight….”
Let me just take a moment to say here that even if you have them most of the time, spending partial time with your kids when you love them with your whole heart just plain stinks.
At this point, we began just moving around in a stupor. I began digging through David’s nightstand for 4 quarters while he reminded me we needed my eye liner pencil. He stopped me as I was digging to say, “can I at least have a good morning hug?” We hugged for a moment, then….”aaaaand, break!”
Usually when we open the door, at least one child is awake. We would be lucky to find a sleeping household behind our closed bedroom door. We slowly opened it knowing we were now entering stealth mode and saw a dark living room…things looked hopeful. We creeped to our destination: Hope and the twins’s room. Madalyn was the one who had lost a tooth this time, but all three girls in this room still believe in the tooth fairy. Upon entering, we realized that the situation wasn’t hopeful, it was Hope-full. We heard, “Good morning! Wait, why are you here?”
Think quick! Think quick! “It’s morning! We are here to wake you up.”
“Noooo it’s still too dark out.”
Think quick! Think quick! David stood behind her and made a few decoded hand gestures I couldn’t make out and then removed the road block that is our 10 year old daughter.
“It’s just cloudy, come on, time to go to the bathroom.”
They left and I began my part of the job. I extracted the tooth holder from under the sleeping child’s pillow and replaced the tooth with the coins. It, of course, seemed so much louder a task than usual. David came back in to the sounds of stirring twins and asked if I still wanted the feet. I responded a silent, “yes!”
As he finished, we heard from the other side of the house a frantic, “I peed! I peed!” And crying. We exited the bedroom with the mission a success and David whispered to me, “That was like Ocean’s 11.” We crossed to the other side of the house to find a three year old standing in the hall saying she had peed the bed. Upon further inspection, we found that the accident must have happened in the bathroom because the bed had not been nailed. David took the laundry and I handled the kid. I met up with my husband in the laundry room and asked, “any chance of still getting that morning, slow wake up time?” He laughed at the possibility of that being reclaimed as this point and started reminding me that he had to be at work earlier today and I had to get the kids to school. I didn’t like that perfectly reasonable answer so I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to our hiding place. At the door, I realized the three year old had followed us so I told her to go make sure her sister were up (insert devious laugh) and closed the door. We crawled back into bed, got comfortable, and *knock knock* We tried to ignore it, but someone had been wronged, and someone else forgot to check the toilet paper situation in their bathroom, and reality was calling. Before moving I asked David, “They say we will miss this, right?” to which he replied, “I think that is just something old people say to make sure we keep populating the earth.” We laughed, accepted our day as officially kick started, and got up.
The morning erupted into activity. I went in to check the tooth fairy room only to find we weren’t the only ones who had forgotten! Kids were getting dressed oblivious to the last 15 minutes of panic, stealth, and determination to make sure they woke up with wonder and excitement. I left and crossed the house to the boy’s room. David was in there attempting to wake him unsuccessfully, until Josiah tooted and woke with laughter…..boys. We then heard the discovery made and crossed the house yet again to see a line forming to check out the tooth fairy’s foot prints and the glee across a 6 year old’s face. David griped about how that fairy never wipes her feet as the kids defended her to the one they had no idea had actually made the dirty footprints! He left amused to go wake the teenager.
On with the morning routine! I started my “coffee” (decaf doesn’t get to exist in my blog without quotation marks pointing out the fact that it is not really coffee!) and David started his glorious, aromatic espresso on the stove top. Then on to lunches-I finished David’s and realized that I had given him the wrong kind of bread. I asked him if he wanted me to changed it and he replied, “Naw, I am used to not getting what I want.” He erupted into laughter and you can probably imagine the look my un-caffeinated self gave him. Through his laughter he assured me over and over he was kidding and I let him know if he ever wanted to know what it was like to not get what he wanted, it could be arranged. I then congratulated him on his courage to make such a joke on my first week of no real coffee.
I brushed some….okay, a lot…of hair and David did breakfast for the kids who don’t eat breakfast at school while periodically calling out to the teenager to get out of bed. With my next free second, I went to grab my “coffee” and add my dairy free creamer to commence the trying to convince my brain it was still getting caffeinated only to find the creamer had disappeared. I asked David where it went. “Sorry, am I being too efficient?” I told him, “As my ‘coffee’ is still black, I would say you are either being too efficient or not efficient enough. Could go either way.” My turn to get a look!
As David finished making his coffee, a three year old enters the room inquiring about where the spilled milk on the table was because she was going to clean it up. David told her he had already cleaned up and then I heard, “Are you crying, are you really crying?” He turned to walk away and I said, “You want to tap out already don’t ya? Remember there is two of those in this house…all day…with me.” He assured me he wasn’t tapping out, he just needed his coffee. And then I cried a little inside. If you don’t follow us on Facebook or Instagram you missed that I was told by a specialist last week that I can no longer have caffeine or dairy due to a new diagnosis. And I am a coffeeholic. Admittedly. Coffeeholic was not the official diagnosis.
Somehow we pulled everything together. The four leaving for school were out the door on time (well until they realized the chill in the air is back again and ran back in for sweaters), the three year olds were currently happy (which probably meant they were into something they weren’t supposed to be, but no one cared right then), and the big one had finally emerged (and made her way at least to the couch). David hugged me goodbye as we chuckled to each other about our morning and our lives. Today is the day we don’t see each other again until about 10 pm so it was an extra long hug. David had about 10 minutes to shower, get dressed and get out the door, but an extra long hug takes precedence.
Since it’s Tuesday, here is a little #TipTuesday for you: Don’t count on the fact of the tooth coming out RIGHT before bed will be enough to remind you to do the tooth fairy thing. Don’t count on the fact that you had to remind the child 7 times that you won’t forget to call the tooth fairy so she will come (a lie born from a previous tooth fairy fail) to be enough to keep you from forgetting. Don’t count on the fact that you convinced your 14 year old before she went to bed that becoming a parent gives you the ability to think on your toes and keep your kid’s believing in all things innocent as long as possible to be enough to make that all true. MAKE VISUAL REMINDERS! Tape it to your forehead. Tape it to your phone screen. Tape it to your spouse! Maybe I have learned this lesson. Probably not.
And David made it to his meeting with 2 minutes to spare!