I have to warn you that if you want to drop by at our home between 7 am and 8 am on a weekday morning, you may not meet me but a fire-spewing dragon.
I am a night owl, and when the Sun actually rises, it is still midnight in night owl world. Imagine being forced to wake up at midnight every morning to send your children to school.
The strong filter coffee jolts me awake. With my hair tied up in a grim knot, I am ready to take on this mad hour in my kitchen. My brain is processing four completely asymptotic threads of activity. Within the next 60 minutes I have to process six different lunch & snack boxes in various combinations to meet individual requirements. The four burners on my hob are working full steam, now cooking, now boiling, now frying. I am like an octopus, my hands moving with precision, stirring the contents of one pan & tossing another. All it takes is one moment of inattention and the dosa is burnt, sugar goes in where salt should have gone….you get the picture?
Sounds from elsewhere in the house indicate that the children are awake and fighting over that most precious morning resource – the bathroom. Suddenly the tenor of those voices change….there is a full blown pillow fight. I reduce the flame to simmer on all burners and run to play referee. I moderate and resolve. I am rewarded with two titles simultaneously, ‘mean mom’ and ‘best mom’. The burning smell from the kitchen has me sprinting…not too much damage, thankfully.
Breakfast, lunch and snack items are produced and stacked on the kitchen counter. I carefully check if I have colour coordinated the hand towels with the right boxes. No pinks and girly colours for my boy.The kitchen looks like a gale just blew through it. Water bottles are filled and I look at the clock. 7.55 am….Phew!
My son walks in at that precise moment with a wail, “Mom, I need 10 pictures of vehicles for a class project.”
I yell at no one in particular, “This is the icing on the cake”.
I shoot off prints and cut the pictures & hand them to my son. My body is now emitting steam.
The children start their breakfast. My son positions his book where his plate should be; his hand moves at a weird angle to shove food into his mouth. My daughter’s hand has paused midway to her mouth as her eyes devour the book she is reading. I let out another volley of ‘mom-pletives’ and the pace of breakfast consumption improves. This is followed by another round of yelling to ensure that the kids have remembered to take all their stuff. In all this chaos, my husband remains calm, focused on the newspaper, totally oblivious to the mad household erupting all around him. Finally everybody is ready. I let out a huge sigh of steam as each member leaves the house.
I have the feeling of having completed a high-intensity cardio workout. Wonder why the weighing scale shows no change ?