I’ve always been pretty quick at getting ready. I do wear make-up (more or less) daily and my hair takes 3 (count ’em) electrical appliances to avoid looking like someone undergoing electric shock therapy. However, years of going to the gym first thing have honed my morning routine and I can achieve quite a bit in a short space of time. So why, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, do my children take 8 times as long to get ready? Let’s break it down a bit…
Monday 8th February – my morning
6.00am – alarm goes off. Get up and into workout clothes
6.05am – start circuit session, using the equipment I set up the night before
6.40am – end session, put equipment away
6.45am – in shower, brush teeth etc. Skincare routine. Ask children to get dressed
6.55am – blow dry, hot brush and straighten hair. Remind children to get dressed.
7.03am – start applying make-up. Remind children to get dressed.
7.05am – finish applying make-up and get dressed in clothes left out the night before
7.10am – nag children
7.15am – make breakfast smoothie, pack lunch bag
7.17am – 7.35am – nag children
7.35am – leave home
Monday 8th February – The Girl’s morning
6.45am (P)- Wake up. The sun is not up on my Gro clock, but get up anyway, as I can hear Mummy in the shower
6.46am (P)- Bang on bathroom door demanding to be let in. Does Mummy not realise that she can’t shower without an audience? The fact she is already in the shower and is wet is a mere detail
6.49am (P) – I am apoplectic. Why, why have I been abandoned in this cruel way?
6.50am (P)- Bored now. Wake up sister even though the sun is not up on her Gro-clock.
6.50am (D) – Woken up by sister, even though the sun is not up on my Gro-clock. Or hers. Choose mood. Grumpy.
6.51am (D) – What’s on the agenda today? Oh yes, school. Better build my dolls some bunk beds out of boxes then.
6.55am (P) – Ask Mummy “where are I going today?”. Even though it is Monday so I know it is nursery. But I don’t want to go to nursery. Tell Mummy this. I think she needs to see an optician as her eyes keep rolling.
7.03am (D) – Mummy reminds me to get dressed. Take off pyjamas and then spend 5 minutes admiring myself in the mirror. Yeah, looking good.
7.10am (P) – I’ve decided I want Nanny to take me to nursery. Even though she is away. A mere detail. Jeez, Mummy is stubborn. And so cruel.
7.11am (P) – She’s not relenting on the Nanny thing. Oh well, she can get me dressed instead. Take off my night attire (pyjamas, sleep socks, vest, pants (which I wore on my head) and urine soaked nappy). Strew these across as many rooms as possible.
7.13am (D) – Mummy is getting Poppy dressed. Unfair. Like, I am nearly 6, but I can’t be bothered to put my own tights on. Mummy tells me I am nearly 6 and to get myself dressed. She is so cruel.
7.14am (P) – I choose a spotty t-shirt, spotty leggings (mismatched), heart print shorts and a stripy fleece. But I can’t find the vest I want. Mummy tells me it’s in the wash. Not good enough. I want it. Even if it’s wet. She is so uncompromising, but I can tell this isn’t going to happen. Whine about my socks instead. I want the Darth Vadar ones, but Mummy gives me the plain Darth Vadar ones, not the ones where he is wearing a Santa hat. Unacceptable. I make this clear through the medium of howling. Mummy eventually retrieves them from the wash bin. Better.
7.17am (D) – I am now dressed, but need to line up all my teddies before I leave the house, otherwise it’ll irk me all day. Mummy tells me to get downstairs. But she hasn’t done my hair! Tardy. She comes back to do it. She’s angling for a ponytail but I insist on bunches. Then she doesn’t do them tight enough, so I take them out and she has to do them again. Standards, Mummy, standards.
7.19am (P) Tell Mummy that I wanted to look like a clown today. She tells me I’ve nailed it.
7.22am (D) Probably time to brush My Little Pony’s tail.
7.23am (D) Mum seems quite cross that I am still styling My Little Pony. But once you’ve started something…
7.24am (D) Ok, she’s threatening to put my sweets in the bin now. Perhaps I should get my shoes on.
7.25am (P) I want to take my jack in the box to nursery. Mummy says no. Well, I know you’ve got to pick your battles, so I’m going to insist. Standoff. Mummy says I can take it in the car, but have to leave it there. I agree. I will sneak it in in my pocket when we get there. It won’t fit in my pocket, but this is a mere detail.
7.27am (P) Remind Mummy that I want to have breakfast at Nanny’s. Mummy tells me if I don’t stop mentioning it she will put me in the bin.
7.28am (D) I have forgotten to bring my book bag downstairs. Mummy has to run up and get it.
7.29am (P) I have forgotten to bring my fleece downstairs. Mummy has to run up and get it.
7.30am (D) Remember that I need some money for book club. Mummy has to run up and get it.
7.32am (P) Position myself so that I am in Mummy’s way whichever way she tries to go. Don’t think she appreciates my skills in this area.
7.33am (D) Try to tell Mummy this long winded, but exceedingly interesting and important story about the fact that my teachers have swapped days this week. She doesn’t seem that interested. I know I mentioned it yesterday evening twice, but I mean, rude.
7.34am (P) Mummy says “For crying out loud” a lot I’ve noticed. I will have to try this.
7.34am (D) Get to the car. Poppy is sitting on my side. Fight ensues.
7.35am (D/P) Mummy finishes loading the car. Tells us if we don’t stop fighting we will be in BIG TROUBLE. Doesn’t articulate what this is. Mysterious
7.35am – Leave home. I don’t know what Mummy does for a job but it must be quite easy as she says she’s going there for a rest.