A Morning of Tragic Comedy

This morning started early. Only a couple hours after a feeding for Jonathan, Christian woke up at 5:30am and decided he was UP. He came into our room a couple of times, and finally I dragged myself into his room to attempt to get him to sleep. As I lay in his bed, he wiggled out of my arms, grabbed a box of his cars, and poured out a dozen Hot Wheels on my sleepy head. Too tired to do much, I laid back down. He stood on me, jumped on me and pulled my hair before I had enough...surprisingly that was the same time Jonathan awoke and Danny left for work.

I desperately clawed at the coffee maker, knowing that coffee would be the only way I would have the energy I needed to get through the morning. Christian climbed into his high chair, ate breakfast, yelled "ALL DONE!" for 5 minutes until Jonathan was done eating and I could clean him up. After picking Jonathan back up, I simultaneously experienced his projectile spit up and spilled my coffee all over the couch.

The rest of the morning consisted of time-outs, Christian rolling around on my bathroom floor like an angry alligator, a screaming, unhappy Jonathan, and the gritting of my teeth until I thought they might wear down completely.

As I pulled into the parking lot at church, I decided to take a quick look at my surely frazzled looking self before getting out of the car. As I pulled down the visor to open the mirror, the garage door opener flew off and hit me with resounding fury. I could do nothing but laugh. WHAT A MORNING!