Heir to the Hovel

I hate mornings, I really do. I like to sleep. I like to wake up whenever & just lay in bed for a while, stretching, relaxing, rolling over just to snuggle a little more into the cool side of the pillow, think about my day & what I should do.  Wash up, have some juice or tea, watch the news or weather for a few minutes, plan my outfit, get ready at my leisure...sigh.

Reality - I open my eyes half way, groan, practically fall out of bed, fumble for some clothes, trip over the dog & stumble into the bathroom all while I am being serenaded to the famous toddler chants of "Mommy mommy mommy" "mommy come get me" "mommy my door is too tight, can't get out"
All I do in the bathroom is pee & splash water on one hand because by now the dog has raced into the kitchen so he can fill his already full bladder with more water. If I'm lucky all of my clothes are on right side out & forward facing since it's now time to go outside with the aforementioned beast.
We only stay out a few minutes since by now toddler is yelling out his window "me come out too mommy" beside which I'm usually yelling at the dog to hurry up, come back, leave it alone, etc. while simultaneously telling at the toddler to stop hitting the window, trying to stick his head out, etc.

Then it's into the house to feed & re water dog, wash hands with soap, gulp 2 or 3 sips of juice & head off to set toddler free. I almost always do this with a smile, it's like as soon as my hand hits the door knob morning mommy takes the place of scary monster mommy.