Rage Against the Routine

Our days - like most people we know - are very full.  By the time I get home from work, help with homework, make dinner, clean up, bathe the children (on a good night), and put them to bed, all I want to do is sit on the couch, preferably with a Hershey bar and a glass of milk, and do absolutely nothing.  Most nights, that is exactly what I do.  This leads to a most ridiculous morning.  Tasks that would take about 30 minutes after the kids go to bed - lay out the clothes, pack the lunches, check the backpacks, etc. - morph into insurmountable feats once the sun rises.  All of a sudden, I find myself yelling at that one to brush his teeth, yanking a brush through this one's hair, while changing a diaper and wondering where the other blue knee sock is for someone's uniform.  Needless to say, it's not an enjoyable event for anyone involved.

There is a way I can make my life easier, but it is something I struggle with every day.  The nightly routine.  The little angel on my shoulder keeps playing her harp and saying (ever so sweetly), "Just get up.  It'll take no time at all to pack those lunches and make sure everyone has two socks."  Meanwhile, that damn little devil pokes me in the other shoulder with his pitch fork and says, "Screw it.  You can get up a little earlier and worry about all that crap in the morning.  Now sit back and enjoy some chocolate." More often than not, the devil wins.  Those nights are then followed by a morning with banshee mom on the hunt for matching shoes and socks (where do they all go????).  Why do I do this to myself?  I know my whole day will start off better and run more smoothly if I just stick to the nightly routine.

So here I sit.  I've polished off the chocolate and set the alarm for well before the crack of dawn.  Barring a snooze button fiasco, I should be able to get it all done.  I guess the devil wins again.  Well... there's always tomorrow.