My morning routine…
Usually wakened by the boy, lie in bed feeling like my head just hit the pillow, often bursting for a piss.
Check phone for the time, feel appalled by the time.
Wall walk to the bathroom, stick contact lenses in eyes that don’t want to see yet.
Tell the boy to grab a brunchie bar to buy some time, thanks Cadbury!
Open all curtains and blinds, suss out the weather, feel appalled by the weather.
Turn on the tv if it hasn’t already been commandeered by the boy and CBeebies.
Make coffee and a more substantial breakfast so feel less of a failure as a parent.
Drink coffee and scroll.
Brush teeth, sort uniform, snack and water bottle. Check homework is in bag.
Tell the boy to shout when the Go Jetters are finished going wherever it is they go. This means it’s 8.10am and time for him to get ready. I help with the buttons and the rest of it if he’s especially tired or just can’t be arsed.
I put on school run slap (unless it’s a work day then it’s a full face with mascara).
Get ready in clothes I’ve had longer than the boys been alive! Seriously wearing the same knickers I bought in San Francisco’s Bloomingdales in 2011. How they still fit I have no fucking idea. It’s like those magic gloves for kids but with pants!
Sort wee guys teeth and hair. Get jackets on, grab keys, bag, phone and sometimes a neighbouring child.
Job done… until it starts again the following morning.
Glasgow’s version of Groundhog Day over here! 🙋🏼♀️👈🏻