When You're Outnumbered in the Morning

In the morning, I have three people to get ready: me, and both the kids.

I remember when Lainie was two or three, thinking "God it will be so nice when she's a couple years older and can dress herself in the morning." 

Flash forward six years, and I'm still picking out her clothes, and dressing five year old Jack like he's a damn toddler.

It's hard.

Luckily I've never been one to care too much about how I look, so going to work every day looking close to homeless because I was the last to get ready, and I was subsequently out of time, is nothing new to me.

For the most part Lainie can physically dress herself, and Jack can too if we all have 5 hours to sit around while he takes 1 hour to put on each item of clothing, allowing for 10 minute play breaks in between each thing, and as long as I don't mind Lainie being too lazy to get clean underwear out of her drawer, or trying to leave the house in a sundress in February or a sweatsuit in August.

At any rate, mornings can be a fucking mad house around here, and while I'm not by any means perfect at navigating them calmly, these are my tips for any one else who ever has to get more than one kid ready early in the morning by themselves, and still also put their own clothes on before leaving the house:

1. If one of your kids is not a morning person, but another one of them is, always get the morning person up first. Let the morning grump ass sleep a couple more minutes, and use this time to like, brush your teeth or wash your face, or any of those other "little things" that are always done in the last half second before you ABSOLUTELY MUST LEAVE NOW OR BE SUPER LATE.

2. Pick clothes out the night before. I say this, yet I'm terrible at it, so I do one of two things: I either pick out the outfit for the morning grumpy kid {Jack} during those couple extra minutes I gave him to sleep, or I if I do remember to pick out his clothes the night before, I try dress him in them after his bath and before bed.

I know that sounds lazy and terrible, but hear me out: I usually only put the shirt on him, and only if it's a t-shirt, and obviously the clean underwear and the socks. He HAS to wear gym shoes to daycare, and finding socks in the morning for three people is similar to dismantling a bomb in the rain with someone giving you instructions in Japanese. I put his bottoms at the foot of his bed, and throw those on him as soon as he gets up, before he can argue.

3. Relax about TV in the morning. Once you've dressed both kids, or at least provided the ones that are old enough to dress themselves with clothes, let them read or watch TV or play a video game, or WHATEVER, so you can have a couple minutes alone in the bathroom to get ready. The mornings I get the most pissed off and stabby are the mornings when both kids are under my feet in the bathroom while I'm stumbling around trying to get ready. Also, you can use TV as a reward, for say, putting on your Goddamn shoes. "Put your shoes on in the next 30 seconds, and not only will I not leave you at a fire station, but I'll also let you watch TV for 10 minutes before we leave"

4. Give warnings. I like 15, 10, and 5 minute warnings. I announce that we are absolutely leaving in X amount of time, and I stick to it. If you aren't done getting dressed or getting your stuff together in that amount of time, you are getting in the car as you are, period. I have definitely taken kids to school in pajamas, without backpacks, or clutching Ziploc bags of dry cereal because they screwed around and didn't get ready until there was no time for breakfast. If you have to put your shoes on in the car on the way to school, fine. 

Trust me, it only takes a couple times of this for kids to really pay attention to your warnings.

5. Do it together. I've learned that once the kids are all dressed, it's sometimes easier to do stuff like face washing, teeth brushing and hair combing all together at one time. Sure the bathroom is super crowded, but you can go through in one swoop and do all those quick tasks at once, and nobody's teeth or hair gets forgotten. Yes, I've done that too.

6. Last but not least, coffee.

For the love of all that is good and sacred in this world, motherfucking coffee, please and thank you.

How do you get your minion army out the door on time?

How I Do It, Pt. 2: A Day In The Life

6:00 am - Alarm goes off. Struggle for the snooze button. Five more minutes, please.

6:05 am - Ok, now we really need to get up. Get up Jack, get up Lainie. Come on guys, its time to get up and get dressed. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SOMEONE MAKE COFFEE.

6:30 - Lainie, you wore that yesterday, go change. Jack are you wearing clean socks? Do you want the dinosaur shirt or the trucks shirt? No, the Star Wars shirt is dirty, dinosaur or trucks? I'M SORRY I WILL WASH THE STAR WARS SHIRT TONIGHT, NOW PLEASE PICK BETWEEN DINOSAUR OR TRUCKS!

6:45 - Does everyone have their shoes on? Lainie, where are your shoes? Jackson those are on the wrong feet. Ok I will help you, let me finish throwing my hair up into a messy ass bun and I'll help you. Yes, Mommy has to get dressed too, I cannot go to work in my bathrobe.

7:00 - OK guys, time to go! Wait, why do you still not have shoes on? Where is your jacket? I told you to put it in the closet! Where's your backpack? Do you have your homework? What about lunchmoney? Shit, has anyone seen MY shoes?!

7:10 - And we're off. Shit I need gas. I always need gas. Rushhour traffic, fight the freeway, change the radio station, kids fight over which song to listen to, Lainie looks half asleep still.

7:30 - At the daycare, hustle the kids to class, force them to hug me goodbye, run back to the car.

8:00 - Work time.

5:00 pm - Time to go, so many things didn't get done, not enough time in the day. Hop in the car, race to the daycare, fight rushhour, avoid the freeway.

5:40 pm - Hi kids, how was your day? Jack put your coat on. Lainie where's your backpack? What'd you eat for lunch? Do you have homework? No we're not ordering pizza for dinner. Why are you crying? Oh my God, just get in the car.

6:00 pm - Finally home. Lainie start your homework, Jackson, no movies until after dinner. Who wants to help me cook?

7:00 - Sit down to eat, Jackson eat your food. Lainie I know you don't like spinach but its good for you. Jackson, eat your food! No, no more milk until you eat. Sorry we're out of juice. If you don't finish dinner you don't get popcorn with your movie. No you cannot just have a Lunchable. Lainie, come on, eat your spinach. I'll give you a dollar if you eat your damn spinach.

7:30 - 8:30 - Playtime.

8:30 - Bathtime, storytime, brush your teeth and get in your jammies.

9:00 - Finally, the kids are in bed.

9 - 10:30 - Me time. Grey's Anatomy, write a blog post, do some laundry, clean the kitchen, episode of Parenthood, cry like a baby because Parenthood is ruining my emotions, check my email, be incredibly witty on social media, then time for bed.

10:30 pm - If I'm lucky, pass the fuck out.

There you have it.

A day in the life.

This is not including things like sick kids, fighting kids, trips to the grocery store, nights when there are errands or mornings where we wake up late.

This is a day where everything, for the most part, goes as well as we could've hoped.

Monday Momisms: About the Baby Daddies

Today I am going to do something I rarely ever do. 

I am going to tell you about Jack and Lainie's dads. 

Yes, plural. 

Dad-z. 

I get asked about them all the time, sometimes subtly in ways like "Oh, your kids....they don't look much alike, do they?" to which I respond "Well, Lainie hasn't really looked the same since her reconstructive facial surgery, you know after that terrible car accident that left her almost completely deformed? If it weren't for the miracles of modern science she'd only have one eye and half a nose." and keep walking. 

Of course Lainie was never in any accident, nor did she ever have face surgery. I just like the way it makes old ladies faces get all twisted in shock and shame, justly teaching them not to meddle in the business of young mothers in the produce section. 

Sometimes I get asked in more obvious, straight forward ways, like "So are you still with their dad? Do they have the same dad? What position did you conceive them in?" 

I have even better responses to those questions, but they're too inappropriate even for here. 

But the point is, people ask, I rarely give a straight answer, at least when my kids are around. I try not to make a big deal of the fact that they have different dads, and I have never ever referred to them as half brother and sister. 

I figure when they start learning about geniology and what not in school, it will become clear enough to them what the labels are. But I don't call them bastards or illegitimate either just because they were born to two unmarried people, so why use some labels but not others, I figure. 

I had Lainie when I was 16, and that is a pretty well known fact by now I think. 

I don't hide it, I don't excuse it, but I don't trash talk it either. 

It is what it is, and to be honest I think I've done damn well for her, all things considered. 

Her dad and I were obsessed with each other when we met in high school. 

I say obsessed, not in love, because that's what it was. Infatuated, consumed, overcome with fleeting, over the top....desire? That sounds porny, and I was 15 at the time, so let's just call it obsession. 

We spent every possible second of the day at school together, hiding off in a corner somewhere together during lunch, ignoring our friends and forsaking whatever rules there might be about PDA at our school, and just pawing the crap out of each other like two disgusting lizards. When I look back on it now, I feel a little sick. 

I was overwhelmed with attention. I know now that James paid so much attention to me because he had nothing and no one else who wanted his time, but at the time it seemed like undying love. I had no idea, no decent example for what undying love should look like. All I had was a bunch of people who only noticed me when it was convenient for them. This was all so new and exciting!

We started dating in October of 2002, and by March 15th of 2003 I had found out I was pregnant with Lainie. 

Long story short, that changed everything. Shocker, I know. The formerly sweet and affectionate and adoring James had become uncaring, cold, withdrawn, not speaking to me for days, snapping at me for no reason, inviting me out with his friends and then ignoring me the entire time. 

While I was in labor he made frequent trips outside to chain smoke his Camels, and kept stepping out of the room to call his friends. 

By the time Lainie was 3 weeks old he'd moved out of me and my dad's house, and back in with his mom.He called less and less, every time he visited all we did was fight. Then finally when she was 2 months old I saw him for the last time, speeding out of his driveway to God knows where, just as I pulled up to drop the baby off for his visit with her. 

I didn't see him again for 7 years. 

Lainie has a relationship with her Grandmother on her dad's side now, but James is still very blase about her existence, which does not escape her notice. 

As for Jack's dad, the embarrassing story is not very romantic, and not very long. 

It's actually somewhat like Knocked Up, except the guy never stops being a douche bag, never grows up and then eventually leaves. 

He was someone I started dating just to get the last guy I was dating to leave me alone. 

Shortly after the first time we slept together, I found out I was pregnant. 

I named Jackson myself, and told Jesse he could stay or go, but whichever decision he made was a forever decision. There would be no back and forth. 

He decided to stay. 

 We tried to make it work, and at first it did. I even thought he was someone I could see myself really loving. But by the time I started showing, he had made the same transformation that James had during my pregnancy with Lainie. He started staying out all night, getting hammered and stumbling in at 4 in the morning, if he came home at all. He was obsessed with video games, sometimes skipping work and at one point losing his job, just to stay home and play more video games. 

He became mean and aggressive, and shortly before the baby came, he got violent. 

I broke up with him, but was 7 months pregnant with nowhere to go. 

As soon as the baby was born, we packed our shit and moved out.

Jesse had less and less of a relationship with Jackson afterward, despite the fact that I encouraged him repeatedly to spend time with his son, sometimes even begging him to take the baby for a day so I could work. 

When Jack was 6 months old, Jesse moved to Minnesota {where he's from}. He's seen Jack 3 times in person since then. Jack will be 4 in May of this year. 

It makes me sad sometimes to think about what these men are missing out on. 

James has never been on a school field trip, never been to Lainie's plays, never tucked her in at night. 

Jesse never saw a single of Jack's firsts. Not his first words, or his first steps, or his first anything. He didn't teach him to throw a ball, or ride a bike. 

My dad, Bill, Jack's Uncle Tony {who isn't blood related to Jack in any way} play bigger roles in these children's lives than their fathers ever had. 

And that just sucks. 

I worry that Lainie will grow up and get pregnant too soon like I did, or chase the wrong men because she wants a father figure. 

I worry that Jack will grow up to be like Eminem, and have all this pent up anger and hatred toward himself, his father and the world. 

Someone asked me once why I didn't just tell them their dads died. 

I thought about it. 

But I never could bring myself to do it. 

Sometimes being a mom all alone to these kids is so hard. So, so hard. And I curse their dads for leaving me to do this by myself. 

There have been days when I wished I knew what it felt like to just not care like that. 

But I know that's not who I am. 

And honestly, most of the time, I'd rather do this alone than do it with either of them. They'd make it harder with their selfishness, their immaturity, their refusal to leave our personal shit out of the kid's lives. They'd make it harder on me, cost me more time, more energy and more work. 

Maybe it's selfish of me, but sometimes I'm glad I'm a single mom, and not trying to co-parent with those men. 

Am I angry? Of course. Does it hurt me when Lainie asks why her dad doesn't spend time with her? Even more than it did when she asked me where he was. Does it kill me when Jack talks about the imaginary Daddy who he made up altogether? Oh, even yesser. 

But I think they'll be ok. 

I think one day, they will realize, like all of us who have an absentee parent have to eventually realize: it's his loss, not mine. 

And I'll tell you one final secret before I go: I saved everything. I saved all of the pictures of me and Lainie's dad, and the few of her and her dad when she was first born. I saved our notes we wrote each other in high school and the necklace he gave me for Christmas, all of it, for Lainie. I saved what little I had of my time with Jack's dad too, for him. 

They won't ever be my boyfriends again, but they'll always be my children's fathers, whether they're absent or not, and my children will always want to know that they left something behind for them. 

So I saved everything.