I miss sleeping in. I threaten to do it at least twice a week. On Saturday and Sunday mornings, I tell everyone, I will not get up before 9:00 am for anything. Unless there is a fire or someone is bleeding. Every weekend morning the children pounce on our bed at 5:30 am. The volume starts out as a whisper but quickly builds into a silly crescendo of chants for waffles or on the spot made up songs about Mom’s matted hair and drool spot on the pillow.
And then I cave and I change a diaper. It starts out all innocent. I tell myself that I will just quickly change the baby and then run downstairs to use the bathroom. I will just shoot into the kitchen to start some coffee so that I can have it when I actually get up. But then the big child follows me downstairs and complains that he is hungry. His pajama pants are mysteriously missing and he has something that resembles blue marker on his shirt already.
OK, fine, I say. I will just change the big kid super fast and I will let him have some cereal. But then I am going back to bed. And right on cue, the baby starts crying and I can hear my husband grumbling upstairs about his inability to nurse because, well, that’s my job. So, I race upstairs to soothe the baby, but in the meantime the big child downstairs just got quiet in that something-Mom-shouldn’t-know-about sort of way. So I pick up the baby and stumble my way back down stairs, cursing under my breath the whole way. Big child has tried to jam a DVD into the DVD player by himself.
Ding! The coffee is ready. Oh, Thank God! Crap…I’m out of creamer. Can I use whipping cream? Sure, why not.
While I am stirring my coffee the baby fills his diaper. The same diaper I just changed not five short minutes ago. As I am searching through the laundry room trying desperately to find the clean stash of cloth diapers I cannot help but think to myself How in the name of HELLO! did I get swindled into getting up while my husband SLEEPS IN?!
Skip ahead 23 minutes, one cup of coffee and a brief chat with the big child on why Mommy shouldn’t swear and I find myself upstairs with my arms crossed, giving my husband the Stink Eye.
Me: Now listen up! Tomorrow I am sleeping in. Got it?! I’m not kidding this time! I really mean it!
Husband: (Groaning) Yes, dear…is the coffee ready?
Me: (Throws a pillow at the human shaped lump in my bed.)