My cluster-bomb of a morning

I have nothing but the utmost respect for single parents; I know I would likely throw myself in front of a train if I had to be the only person responsible for my children 100% of the time.  I love them, they are wonderful, but man-oh-man, its nearly impossible to get anything done.

For the next few days, Steve will be leaving the house at the ungodly hour of 6am to make it to a training down in Casa Grande (about an hour and a half away for those not well versed in the Arizona road-map).  I already knew there was no way I would make it to the staff meeting we had scheduled for 7"45 this morning, so I attended the elementary meeting yesterday.  (To quote my favorite podcasters, The Manic Mommies, it was like daggers in the eyes, but that's a whole other story).  

So my morning begins with the sound of Matthew coughing at somewhere between 5:30 and 6am.  Steve is up - he can handle it... I try to doze.  It doesn't work.  F-I-N-E... I get up to find Matt in our bed (on days where Steve's alarm goes off before the sun comes up, I retreat to the guest room for a bit more peace and quiet) and Steve looking at him saying "he doesn't feel good, and is having trouble breathing.  I've gotta run... Bye".

Great.  Week before AIMS testing, can't take a day off, sick kid who can't talk, no fever, but labored breathing.  Send him to school?  Bring him with me?  Pawn him off Call in reinforcements in the fashion of my mom?

Meanwhile, I am doing my usual run-around-the-house-like-a-lunatic routine, getting beds made, laundry tossed into various machines, breakfast made, lunch made, backpacks checked, homework checked, wardrobes checked, diapers changed, meds dolled out, and somewhere in there getting myself showered, dishes cleaned up, dogs run and fed and locked back up.

Why was I surprised that today, sans-hubby, avec sick child, it took me until 7:40 to even get into the shower?  I usually LEAVE at 7:40.   My mom comes to whisk sick kid away at 7:30, Parker dashes out the door at 7:37, I plop Christopher in front of the computer for some Little Einsteins time, I get ready - Chris and I leave the house, "like a bat out of hell, half an hour late with my kids in tow" (again, Manic Mommy style) and I drop him off at the sitters.

Deep breath.  Calm Blue Oceans.  Deep Breath.  Calm Blue Oceans.

Stop at Starbucks, because after morning like that, I need some infusion of serious caffeine, go to pick up my cup while driving, and the top pops off, and I nearly spill my entire Venti Latte all over myself and my car.  I can thank a good set of reflexes for the fact that my car will NOT smell like spoiled milk this summer!

I finally waddled in to school at 9:05. 

There is no way in hell I could do this, every day, all the time.  No way at all.  Just one day of flying solo, and I nearly collapse by 9am from sheer exhaustion.  All that before I even get to WORK.

Geesh.