Living the Dream

The pie's in the oven (that and the cranberries are my sole contribution to this year's meal), the kids are hooked into screens and The Man of the House is headed to Sears to buy his big Man Machine (snowblower). I'm still in my jammies, enjoying my second cup of coffee and I'm pondering the journey thus far.

When I was a kid, living in a series of apartments and rental houses, I used to imagine my life the way I wanted it to be when I "grew up." When it didn't involve red carpets and long walks on the beach, it looked like this:

A little house in a nice-but-not-fancy neighborhood with neighbors we knew and liked. A tall, handsome husband who could Fix Things and who thought I was wonderful. A blond girl who looked like me and a little boy who was just a little too smart for his own good. And a dog who'd chase a ball in the yard for hours without ever running away and needing to be hauled home by the collar.

This morning, I'm looking around and thinking...yeah. Things may not be perfect. We're dealing with some major health/ work/ financial decisions and there are nights I lay awake wondering how we'll get through the next week or month or 24 hours, but mostly...yeah. This gig is pretty Badass.

I do more before 10 am than you do all day.

Here's my morning so far:

5:45- wake up from a nightmare about a friend telling me she quit going to our church because I said something mean about her kid
6:00- give up trying to go back to sleep and get up
6:10- step in dog poo
6:20- realize I forgot to take the monkey bread out of the fridge last night.
6:50- put monkey bread in the oven, hoping it will still work
7:00- realize that my kid's parent conference is at 7:45. Peer anxiously at Monkey Bread
7:10- scramble to get kids out of bed and rushed through morning routine
7:30- kids announce that today is "dress like your hero day" at school. Tell them that's fine, but they're on their own costumes-wise and we're out the door in 10 minutes
7:32- reminder call from radiology- Harry has an x-ray at 8:10
7:40- Monkey bread isn't done. Curse. DH and I yell at each other and the monkey bread goes back in the oven (now turned off) with a prayer that it will somehow finish.
7:50- Kid's teacher arrives for the conference. Proceeds to tell us he's the cleverest child she's ever taught in 30 years (yeah!) and that he's going to be a juvenile delinquent if we don't teach him some self discipline and organizational skills (boo!)
8:15- Can't find kid to get him to the clinic for the X-ray
8:20- Locate kid in the library, frantically call X-ray. They promise to squeeze us in.
8:20- Call from pediatrics- why didn't we come to our appointment? We had an appointment? I had no idea. Reschedule appointment
8:30- Call from husband's doctors reminded me that he has an appointment today. Remember that I need to be sure to go with him.
8:35- Waiting in waiting room at x-ray.
8:45- Still waiting
9:00- Still waiting
9:10- X-ray! All appears well, to my untrained eye. The mass is gone! Mostly! Hooray!
9:15- PTA chair calls asking about the monkey bread. I improvise a cover story.
9:20- Scramble home. Monkey bread is done enough. Dump it on the tray, slap some foil over the top, and scramble back to the car.
9:30- Kid and I struggle into the school with the monkey bread, his trombone, his backpack and music folder. I nearly dump the monkey bread in the parking lot. Twice.
9:35- Monkey bread accomplished! Kid's at school! The x-ray is complete! I prepare to stop for celebratory coffee! Alas, I arrive at the drive up window and realize I've left my wallet somewhere. The Barista takes pity and gives me the coffee anyway.

You know what? That's a pretty badass morning, if I do say so myself.