Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts

Wednesday, 9 July 2008

Getting an early start

It's not 7am yet but so far I have:
  • had coffee
  • sorted out a fight about whether to watch a DVD or cbeebies
  • prepared milk and cunningly managed to let each small boy have part of an orange cup to avoid fights
  • unpacked the dishwasher
  • repacked the dishwasher
  • folded yesterday's laundry from the line
  • put load of wet washing into dryer
  • folded dry laundry from dryer and put away
  • put on another load of washing
  • gone through email
  • checked the world wasn't ending courtesy of BBC website as I never actually get to watch the news on tv
Am about to go make breakfast and then have the toss up: do I do my teetering ironing pile or do I get the kids out of the house and into Sainsburys really early so that we can be done in time for playgroup? If I choose the latter, it means I have the afternoon free of chores. But it also means trying to entertain two hyped up boys on a rainy day. At which point a trip to Sainsburys becomes quite appealing just to keep them entertained.

Decisions, decisions. I'm sure there are many hedge fund managers and other important people dealing with bigger decisions at this early hour, but this is quandary for now.

Wish me luck as I head into a full day without childcare coupled with torrential rain. I shouldn't have had the wine last night. I know it will be needed by the end of today.

Saturday, 21 June 2008

Morning has broken

My children have inherited their father's delightful tendency to wake up before the birds do. After 4 and a bit years, 5am starts are getting a little tired. However, I can't really complain because my husband has been the one getting up with them most mornings given he's normally awake anyway. In contrast, I am a growling, surly, thoroughly unpleasant creature who isn't likely to start smiling until the first cup of coffee is down the hatch.

This morning though, husband appears to want to sleep in. Youngest beastie was in our bed at 5am doing his extraordinarily annoying rolling-like-a-crocodile manoeuvre (think David Attenborough documentary on a crocodile grabbing its prey and then rolling over and over and over until the poor creature is thoroughly drowned - that's what this child does with the sheets, until we're all in an incredible tangle and are thoroughly bruised from elbow jabs.)

So succumbing to the inevitable, I got up telling the child that he will be given milk, the telly will be put on and then I'll be returning to bed. Except I forgot. We didn't have any milk. Obviously. So with a wailing child in the background, I pulled some clothes on and staggered out into the rain in search of something dairy-related.

And then an incredible thing happened. I remembered how much I love being up before the rest of the world. It's not something you'll ever appreciate if you stay inside. But the minute you open the door on a new day before anyone else has, you feel as though you have the planet to yourself. So despite getting soaked and having to drive all the way to the service station to get the sodding milk, it was lovely. I was there so early that the newspapers hadn't even arrived yet. And the M&S Food place which is always open was shut. My dreams of hot croissants for breakfast disappeared fast. Lack of croissants and newspapers would ordinarily have annoyed me. But at least I'd secured some milk. And I'd stolen a march on the rest of the world. I was the first customer of the day. For some crazy reason, this made me feel a bit victorious. Perhaps I just needed some coffee.

Anyway, I feel doubly smug at my early start because today is the longest day of the year and I feel as though I'm going to be getting my money's worth and see all of it. Hoorah! Now if only we could actually see the sun, all would be right with the world.

P.S. While typing this I failed to have eyes in the back of my head so didn't see the aforementioned child sucking on a painted pet rock. The paint apparently isn't very good at staying on the rock. So he now has paint all over his face, his PJs and his tummy. I don't really want to go into the room where this incident took place because I have a sneaking suspicion that my positive outlook will rapidly evaporate when I find paint all over the sofa. sigh. Bloody artwork.