Morning Rush

There is a sweet moment in the morning - in between sleep and awake - that although fleeting gives me hope for the day.  A moment in time when my life is not my concern.  A moment in time that is void of worry, remorse or regret.  A moment in time that is neutral, fair, impartial. And then...the rhetoric begins.


You ate the entire pint of ice cream last night, didn't you.
I hope your boss doesn't realize the huge mistake you made yesterday.
She didn't call you back because she doesn't want to be your friend anymore.
He is so out of your league.
You realize there isn't enough money to cover the bills this month.  
I wonder what you are going to wear today.  Nothing fits.


Like bullets in a machine gun - takka.takka.takka.takka.takka - these thoughts, statements, questions stream into my consciousness forcing me to dive for cover under my blankets. Within nanoseconds that sweet moment of peace is quickly replaced by worldly clamors. On the heels of the internal rhetoric, the dog scratches at the side of the bed begging for attention, the kids move about the house needing morning hugs, clean clothes, breakfast and homework papers signed.  The phone dings and buzzes and beeps reminding, alerting and encouraging me to move, move, move!


I imagine morning is bacon and eggs and homemade pancakes at the Johnson house.  Everyone has a Johnson family in their lives.  The family that arrives to school on time, everyday.  The children never have remnants of breakfast stuck to their cheeks and their clothes are wrinkle free because they were not picked out of the laundry basket.  Their mini-van is clean and their offer to watch your children sounds more condescending than helpful.  I bet morning at the Johnson house is delightful.


Morning at my house is...delightful too.  Delightfully, delightful.  Pretty uneventful except we run around like it's the end of the world.  I don't understand it.  Even when I set out the cereal bowls and make lunches the night before and plan outfits in advance.  Suddenly the morning hours arrive and the boys want to exert their independence by packing their own lunches - using every utensil in the kitchen or I forgot to turn on the dryer or it's Snack Mom day and I don't have 28 peanut free, tree-nut free, egg free, sugar free snacks to send to school.


With a busy head and a busy house and a busy day ahead of me I pause to try and recapture that blissful moment I enjoyed only an hour ago when everything was possible.  Because that is the truth.  Everything - even in the midst of morning chaos - is possible.