When I started this blog, I had promised myself that unlike most people I would'nt bore people with endless stories of how I spent the better part of the morning screaming at my kid or worse, about how he managed to hold a spoon yesterday and how cute that was. Trust me, I have been on the other side of that conversation way too many times, back in the good 'ol days of singledom, and I remember yawning and feeling like screaming out "will you shut up already!!". But unfortunately, part of the bane of growing up into an adult (which I am still a little unsure about whether I am actually there yet) is that there is no escaping the over reaching and all pervading effect that children have on our lives. So here goes, adequate warning issued to all those phobic of these conversations, you can switch to the next blog at this point.
One of the biggest challenges that I started to face when I got back to work from being a stay-at-home mom was the "Morning Madness". My getting back to work and my toddler starting school was hardly a coincidence, it was planned to the tee. Unfortunately, what I didnt budget for was the umpteen hours of planning and the boundless energy that was required to survive the "Morning Madness". There is about a short hour in the morning when everything seems to be flying here and there, clothes are flung, tempers flare, decibels go through the roof..tears are spilt galore on both ends of the battle. There is collateral damage often..the cook gets to share the brunt of the frustration because the toddler is too brazen to care.And finally as the dreaded hour draws to a close, much like a Beethoven melody drawing to its high noted climax, mother and son clamber onto a little hatchback and tear across the city streets.
Every day when I finally survive my crazy morning and get to work, I take a moment or two to savour my victory at the battleground. Another day gone by, another morning successfully circumvented. I heave a huge sigh of relief and spend the next ten minutes, just slinking back into my chair, closing my eyes and picturing rainbows on a quiet Sunday morning.