Ever since we converted the girls to toddler beds, the mornings have sucked big time. They wake up mega early, get out of bed, and immediately commence the yelling and shenanigans. It’s usually all in good fun, but there really is no good fun to be had at 6:15 in the morning for the over 3 feet tall crowd.
I used to brag that my kids were all late sleepers. We would often all stay in bed until 8 or so, and I even had to set my alarm on school days so that we wouldn’t be running late. Or later than usual, because we could all get up at 4 am and I’d still find a way to make them late. These kids are doomed for a life of tardiness until they start driving themselves.
But the thing about those days was that I could ignore them. Sure, they woke up in the “too early for Mom” hour, but if I didn’t come get them, they would talk for a while, then hunker back down and doze for a while longer. They never crawled out of the cribs.
God I miss those days.
Most days now when they get up, they get a little loud, I have to go shush them, try to coax them back into their beds or at least back into their room to play quietly (those of you who actually know my kids are laughing your asses off right now), or maybe even lay on the floor in their room to entice them to snuggle up with me.
But Wednesday, oh Wednesday! Wednesday was glorious. Something was different. There was no raucous yelling, no overzealous tackling that turned into squabbling and eventually screaming and tears. Just quietish talking, and giggling coming from their room. Perhaps they were lot in the world of pretend with their latest favorite toys. Surely they were sharing their beloved Gerald & Piggie story that they can’t get enough of.
Honestly? I didn’t care. They weren’t being disruptive and best of all, they weren’t waking Zoe up. My tired ass was going to milk this for all the snooze time it was worth. As I dozed I gave myself an internal pat on the back for a job well done in raising such well behaved little girls.
I don’t know what it was that prompted us to get up. An unfamiliar noise (as if the sounds of my kids playing quietly together wasn’t unfamiliar enough)? A slight crash? Not sure, but halfway across the living room we realized that they were not, in fact, in their room.
Let me break this photo down for you. Here you see:
- a pantsless 4 year old (the other one is next to her, but she’s naked, so no pictures, yo)
- potty seat removed from the toilet and placed on the floor (gross!)
- Rachel’s frog jammies and Claire’s striped jammie bottoms on the floor (and wet)
- tube of practically empty toothpaste because I can’t remember to buy more (clean teeth are overrated)
- random cups for rinsing hair and mouths. Not at the same time. (and now possibly dipped in the toilet)
- roll of toilet paper (at least it’s not completely unrolled?)
- two plungers sticking haphazardly out of the toilet bowl (gross times 2!)
- TOILET WATER EVERYWHERE (gagging!!!!!)
- and a baby doll who seems to have met her demise from the inherent grossness (rest in peace, little baby doll)