Morning Rituals

The plan was to get up at 5:30 am in order to have some time for myself to plan my day, meditate and pray for the Lord’s help. It didn’t happen. I drag my sorry self out of bed at 6:20, berating myself for staying up until 11:30 reading Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins.

I stumble to my children’s rooms, flip on the light and urge them to get up in my most happiest voice. I believe a cheerful mother in the morning sets the tone for the day for them. I can be grumpy after they have been dropped off at school.

Into the kitchen I stagger, staring at the pile of homework on the kitchen table, knowing that my oldest son, who is nine, won’t have time to finish it. I remember the ultimatum I gave him the previous night. Finish your homework or you can’t go to scouts. He donned his uniform and dashed out the door and was on his bike before I could protest, but by then I was sitting on the couch reading Mockingjay and was too distracted. Darn book.

I pull out the pans, dice potatoes, onions and zucchini from my garden and start frying them in olive oil. I want my boys to have a hot, healthy breakfast because I believe it helps them stay focused, calm and attentive in school. I scramble eggs on the side and by then my three year old, John, is upstairs and smiles at me, greeting me cheerfully. He wants to help make the grape juice. He does a good job, no spills this time.

My other two boys stumble upstairs, rubbing their eyes. My six year old is grumpy. He takes after me. My nine year old, Michael, is smiling as usual and heads for the shower. I can’t get my six year old, Bruce, to even get off the couch and get dressed. He gets on his knees, with his chin on the cushion and his head craned back, mouth hanging open and eyes closed. He mumbles something about his tummy hurting again.

I get breakfast on the table. All three boys are dressed (after much coercion, bribes, and finally threats). In order to remedy the constant bickering over who gets to say the meal time prayers, I assign them turns. It’s Bruce's turn to say breakfast prayers for the month of September. He asks for blessings on the food and everyone in the family except John, my three year old. This does not escape John's attention and when “amen” is said, he wails that Bruce didn’t ask for a blessing for him. I glare at Bruce. Bruce says the prayer again, “please bless John, but not really.” And then grins mischievously at me. Again, John begins to cry. I end up having to say the breakfast prayer once more, asking for a blessing for John before everyone is happy and we can eat.

Dad had stayed up late working on a project for his employers and I realize that I’m going to have to drop the kids off at school. I briefly consider driving there in my pajamas, but then the thought occurs to me that if I get into a car accident, I’m going to feel awfully silly in my pjs.

So off to school we go. Because I overslept, we don’t have time for devotional, which includes singing a hymn, reading from the scriptures and saying family prayer. In the car, we say a quick prayer and I turn on Scripture Scouts. I believe sending my boys out into the world with some form of the Lord’s words in their minds will help them. I don’t know how much, but hopefully some of it will stick and make them good, contributing members of society.

Back home again, I fight the urge to lie down on the couch and take a nap. I lose. I sleep while my three old builds rocket ships next to my face, carrying on a one sided conversation. An hour later, I’m still groggy, but at least I feel a bit more energized. Because I didn’t plan my day out ahead of time, I have to make decisions as I go. Should I do laundry, clean bathrooms, make healthy snacks for when the kids get home, grocery shop, or start this blog?

Well, here I am blogging away and this has been such fun. Of course, my day isn’t over yet, and there is so much more to share of my adventures around my kitchen table. In just a few hours I’ll have bags of groceries to put away and between now and then, something interesting is bound to happen.

Until then, eat well, be well, and be happy.

Jennifer