ornings are always chaotic and I really do not enjoy the screaming craziness of mantras such as "Where's this, where's that?" Feelingspun around and dizzy for the next hour or so, I begin to schedule the ten minute only showers due to the high cost of water lately.
Getting the crew out of the house and to their prospective lives is a battle unearthly. Lunches have to made, money for lunches found in a hurry. "Where's the socks?" a common anthem.
Cortisol levels are at the highest during the predawn hours when I have to reboot diurnal sleep patterns and reestablish the status quo of reality beckoning. Sorry, later Tom Selleck.
Out of the peaceful bliss of slumbertime succinct schedules must be administered, making sure all condiments are at the ready.
"Do you want eggs today or cereal?" sounding eerily like GI Mom drill sargeant. The dawn attacks with little sympathy to my own personal needs. There is no time! No one will ever wake up on time! What can I do, pour cold water on them?
Blasting them awake with the Heavy Metal Rock station does the trick, that and turning on the lights, making fragrant coffee in the kitchen which wafts up to their cocoon noses.
When I have reached the point of no return and I am about to break it is time for my breakfast. It is now 8:00 a.m. I have this oh so sweet moment to regroup and recharge.
Then I hear a cry for "Is there any cereal left?". Seems I had forgotten somebody! Oh yes, my man child in the back room! "Do you want another coffee dear?" I tenderly call. H Maybe I could make better memories of my harried mornings, I will try to do that, later.
Questioning myself and my own reaction to this naturally peaceful time of day, I have to wonder how did I get like this, why can't I have those zen-like moments back from my youth? What mechanism created this morning monster? "Ughhh" I cringe in disguist.
I don't hear a request for another coffee and I take leave to rest for an hour. My hour, my sweet hour of quiet reflection, zen breathing, Sitting back in my favourite snuggly chair and grab a coffee and what's left of cold porridge and declare the next hour as "mine". No distrubances, none. The cats are out the dog is sleeping. Alone at last.
This glorious moment where I put myself on the backburner on simmer and breathe a collective consciousness "Ahhhhh" in the key of G. No regrets now, as I sip the morning brew. Jane Jones June 17, 2008