Our day starts well before my ideal 7am wake-up time. Chris has to be out of the house by 6:40am, at the latest most days. Kennedy senses that she needs to see her Daddy and often graces us with her sweet sounds somewhere between 5am and 5:30am. Luckily we've now trained her that if Daddy comes in she's getting a new diaper, a cup and her music turned on. Then her door is shut and it's up to us how loud the monitor is on. She's in a toddler bed, so she could get out and play with the plethora of toys in her bedroom, but most of the time she prefers to nestle in her bed with 10 various stuffed things and a few books. Guessing Molly's wake-up time is like playing the lottery - you never know. She could sleep through the atomic bomb at some points of the night, but I often hear her moving about her bed and find her in some of the strangest positions. Because of their various issues we have video monitors trained on both of them and we see some of the silliest things! Anyway, back to our day.
I've usually spent my night with one eye or one ear open, and the deep sleep is often hard to come by. It is even harder to come out of! By about 6:30am I am prying my eyes open and wiping away the sleep to see what Bob Maxon has in store for our weather. This helps me determine clothing, if I should fill the kids pools, or if we could possibly venture out to a zoo. I drag myself from my rather comfy bed and try to get a shower - more to train my massive head of hair and to make sure I don't stink too bad then for any other reason! Molly is often greeting me at the end of my shower and off we go.
This morning I said, Molly find your Thursday underpants. This has been a great way to teach the days of the week and help her know what day it is. She's also insistent that she wear the correct day. Anyway, I asked her to get her underpants. She headed in the wrong direction. I asked again. She responded something about Pirates. Figuring the third time was the charm, I asked again - she told me today was music day at school. I gave up at this point and dug out the Thursday underpants myself. I helped her with the bathroom and brushing her teeth. Then I went and prepped her meds - a sprinkle cap opened on a spoon of whipped cream - and got her the requested cup of Orange Juice (95% water in the cup then a splash of juice - she loves it and it makes the very expensive OJ last much longer!). By this time it's about 7:15am. We got her dressed quickly. She's requested a skirt, so we choose a pink skirt and tank top. I help her with every article of clothing and leave her socks on the couch next to her with instructions to put her socks on.
I run to get dressed, since I can't possibly complete any more tasks with heavy wet hair and a bath towel for my stylish clothes. By this time, my poor neglected Kennedy has reached the end of her music CD, is done reading books and ready to be mobile. I open her door and am greeted by a smiling little girl. She bolts out of bed to find her sister. I catch up to discover that Molly's socks are where I have left them and Molly is lying on the couch next to them and Kennedy is already running asking for "mink". I get her cup ready and Molly is requesting breakfast. We negotiate a bit, I swear she thinks this is a restaurant, and she agrees to eggs with cheese, toast and banana. This is quite a hefty order compared to the usual bowl of cereal - but I figure the protein is good. Kennedy won't eat eggs so I make her some toast and decide I might as well make me some too - since yesterday there was no breakfast until lunch time.
While I make breakfast, Kennedy has scurried underfoot at least a dozen times. I check on Molly while the eggs cook and the toast, well toasts. The socks are still next to her. I give up and put them on her feet. I can see the zoney look in her eyes - she's on another wavelength today and I need her to catch-up to my speed. Alas, I must adjust to hers.
I get breakfast on the table and the girls converge like people who have never seen food before. I find myself running a continuous stream of "chew", "not so much" , "no peanut butter in your hair", and "don't throw that at your sister". Normally I would like to sit with the girls and plan the day as we eat breakfast, but there is too much to get accomplished. I eat my toast and drink my keurig cup of coffee, which gets spit out because I stirred it with a dirty spoon and get a chunk of something in a sip, while I stand and prepare Molly's lunch. She refuses to eat the free lunches that come as part of the summer school program and she refuses sandwiches. So I try to create a balanced lunch with things she'll eat. In goes a yogurt, a cheese stick, some fresh fruit in a cup, a water-juice box (love those!), pretzels, an ice pack, fork and spoon. I pat myself on the back - I didn't forget an item today - the cheese stick was left out accidentally last week - and the admonishment I got from my five year old was rather pointed! I will not forget again! Now my vacuum-eater daughters have finished their breakfasts. A mixture of crumbs and goo adorn their faces, hands and clothes. I clean them up and strip Kennedy. I've picked out her outfit, which she stubbornly refuses and insists upon a dress. I don't even fight it - she picks a dress and I fix her hair and then fix Molly's hair.
It's now 8:15am. I've remembered our play date scheduled for after we drop Molly off, but only just remembered the peanut allergy and the fact that Keddy had Peanut Butter for breakfast. I break out the cleaning supplies and scrub and vacuum the kitchen, the chairs and the table. The girls have since taken out multiple toys.and are well into their elaborate play schemes. We need to leave our front door at 8:40am to have enough time to get in the car and make it across town for summer school. At 8:30am I ask Molly if she has to use the bathroom, she declines but my detective nose knows that Kennedy has a gift for the diaper fairy (if only!). I scoop her up and head to the changing table while instructing Molly to find her shoes. She actually hears me, but pulls out her Sketchers, which she knows she can't wear to school. She asks, I remind her, she replaces the shoes but doesn't get another pair - my bad, I wasn't specific enough. I ask her again to find shoes, but now she's sitting on the floor of Kennedy's room playing dollhouse. I break the play with a reminder that it is not time to play, but time for shoes. She finally goes to get them, I sit her down to help get them on and ask Kennedy to get my shoes. Keddy picks out brown flip flops, I put them on, but would much prefer my broken in pair. While she's not looking, I switch my shoes and help her into her purple flip flops. Kennedy, of course, notices I've changed my shoes and yells at me. I cave and change my shoes. It's 8:40am
I grab the bag, and the keys and then remember to sunscreen Molly. I grab everything again and direct the kids to the door. Their both distracted by something again. Finally at 8:42 we are out our front door. Now I just have to get them down the stairs (Molly an unstable walker and Kennedy new to the whole climbing thing, and fiercely independent), in to the car (both insist they have to be first), make sure the air conditioner is cranked up high enough so Molly is ok, get them in their car seats (which neither can buckle once they are in them), and drive to school. The minute my car is on the street I feel my whole body relax. Another morning routine conquered and a 20 minute break in the car (10 mins there, 10 back) before the day time routines begin.
Only about 11hours until Chris is home and the girls are snug in their beds.... It's hectic, but it's my reality and I really think I like it!