The morning whirlwind

I’d like to say that mornings in our house were a calm, relaxing affair. Sadly, that isn’t the case. Every morning my boys create a whirlwind of destruction. And at 31 years old, I’m not much better.

Basically seven years of being a stay-at-home mother, and now working from home, appear to have made me chronically lazy. Subconsciously, I’ve mastered the art of never being late for school – but it’s always by the skin of our teeth. Every morning we fly out of the door in a cloud of toast crumbs, leaving chaos in our wake.

Here’s why it always goes wrong… 

After a few years of trying to dress to smartly for the school run, these days (unless I’m going out somewhere) it’s all I can do to simply pull a hairbrush though my hair and brush my teeth. I never allow enough time and always forget that I have two small people to get dressed as well as myself. I usually mean to put my mascara on but I almost always get waylaid trying to track down a clean pair of pants for a small boy.

Clearly, I should get up earlier. And I guess if I was commuting to an office straight after the school run, I would. But as I’m working at home, it’s always easier to scuttle home and smarten up later.

I also always intend to leave the kitchen nice and tidy, and remember to empty the dishwasher before bed. But, really, does anyone actually do that? Instead, it all gets crammed in at the last minute, or not at all. Usually, someone asks for porridge to be cooked at five past eight, or wants four rounds of toast. I just run out of time, and end up coming home to deal with dirty dishes and piles of sticky porridge, when I really should be getting on with work.

I suppose I need to pull my socks up and stop slacking, don’t I? Pretend I’m going to work in an office. My home is my office and it’s no wonder I often struggle to get anything done when I’m always two steps behind.

Of course, there’s always going to be a certain amount of unavoidable morning chaos. It’s a truth universally acknowledged that, no matter how early you get up, your children will always empty the Lego box five minutes before you leave or lose the one precious keyring that has to go on their book bag. And that’s before we even remember about the lost library book/spelling book/raincoat the moment we step over the threshold.

But if I can at least hold my end up, then maybe there’s hope for us yet.

So, next week I’m going to try and get up earlier every day and find some time to gather my thoughts before the morning madness begins. Hey, the husband and I might actually get to have a cup of tea together before he disappears off to catch a train.

I’ll report back on how I get on. In the meantime, I’d love to hear any tips you have for on becoming an early-morning ninja warrior of a mother!