Tikkabik

Monday mornings are nuts in our house. We have three kids who go to three different schools, which means that between the hours of 6 and 8:30, it's a miniature version of Grand Central Station. Add to that that none of us -- except maybe James -- are particularly good at getting up in the morning, and that just makes it worse.

First out the door is Robert. The bus for his school is usually in the driveway (yeah, in the driveway -- he takes a short bus -- no jokes please) at 7:19 AM.

Robert can be self-sufficient at feeding himself and getting himself breakfast if he's properly motivated. But most mornings he's surly and disposed to dragging his ass to get ready, and has to be prompted and reminded repeatedly to go through his morning ritual: Eat breakfast, get dressed, take your pills, brush your hair and teeth, get your homework together, and get your jacket on.

Usually by the time Robert's out the door, I've raised my voice once or twice. My blood pressure is inevitably higher.

Within five minutes of Robert's departure, it's Emmeline's time to get out the door. Emme requires more preparation than Bob -- she's got hair down to her shoulders, and only her mother is capable of making it look good. Otherwise she's got this Hermione Granger thing happening -- her hair is this medusoid mess.

Emmeline's driver picks her up up and across the street from us, and our neighborhood is one big loop. So from the time the bus drives down the street and across our living room windows, Emme has maybe one minute to get her bag and get out the door.

Without exception, it involves me or Bonnie raising our voices to tell Emmeline to HURRY HURRY HURRY once we see the bus. Thank God she can get herself dressed.

James takes a bit longer. His bus doesn't come until 8:19, so we have a bit more time to get him ready. But he finds ways to waste the time. Lately it's been playing on his Game Boy Advance. Meanwhile (and even when his older siblings are getting ready) I'm usually prepping stuff for the morning post, so I'm balancing the PowerBook on my lap while I'm writing or editing content.

All three of the kids need to have their snacks packed -- a pouch of juice plus a bag of Smartfood popcorn or a Little Debbie snack cake or fruit. And on Mondays, I have to write out checks for lunch money for the week. That requires multiplication, which I'm no good at. It often requires negotiation, if the kids see something on that week's menu that they find disagreeable.

Plus Bonnie's inevitably requesting me to make a pot of coffee.

Add to that a day like today, when we've slept right through the alarm, and it's total, utter chaos.