Every morning, I race the clock. Despite getting up around 4:45am, I never seem to have enough time to do everything that needs to get done before we all head out of the door. Dan tries to help, but he leaves for work at 6:15am leaving me to feed, dress, primp, and polish the children all on my own. I have a finite amount of time. There is no room for nonsense, games, or silliness. The girls and I just have to go!
We go at different speeds. Sarah does everything at full-throttle. This would be very handy if she was doing what she was instructed to do. This seldom happens. Sarah prefers to race a toy shopping cart around the house, bumping into the kitchen island and the twins. She takes great joy in sitting on the potty. Fully dressed. With no intention of doing anything but sit there. She will not tolerate being rushed.
Katie, unfortunately, has lost the ability to hear... unless I am blocking the TV, standing six inches from her face, and shouting "Let's go!". At which point, some sound waves pass through her ear drums. Due to her hearing impairment, the message because muddled. "Let's go!" sounds more like "Lie on the floor, kick the wall and the baby, shout out demands for a frozen Eggo, and throw whatever may be in arm's reach".
Bethie, shockingly enough, is very good in the mornings. Like always, she marches to the beat of her own drummer...a very slow drummer. But she is accommodating. I can tolerate slow. It's the dead stop that drives me up the wall!
One morning is the same as the next. I deal with three tired girls and do my best to get out of the door on time. One particular morning, we were running behind schedule. While the children were supposed to be eating breakfast, I ran upstairs to finish getting myself ready for work. While brushing my teeth, I heard Sarah pound up the stairs. I was moments away from being ready to go, and I was in no mood to deal with the tyrannical demands of my baby. She raced into my bedroom, and I followed closely behind shouting "No, no, no! Let's GO!". She turned on my clock radio, and music filled the room. I had a mini-fit and turned the radio off. Sarah said "Dance!", and turned the radio back on! So, we danced. We danced because it made her happy. We danced because another minute late was not going to make a difference. We danced because Sarah The Mute graced me with word that I could actually understand!