Wendi {at random}

How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? Me? Only about 15 minutes if I compact it all down and take out the extraneous moments like stopping to listen to the weather or tell the boys for the 238th time to get up or pick up my coffee mug to take a sip or three. Really, I'm a fast get-ready-er.

Eaglescout rises and shines, yes, shines and sings and sometimes even dances, at 5 a.m. It's strange, but he's at his best at that hour. Too bad I don't care to hear a single word he has to sing. He wakes me at 5:30 with a cup of coffee. He's much better at coffee than dancing. I just lie there in bed counting the minutes on my clock. 5:35. 5:36. 5:37. 5:38. 5:39. 5:40. My clock, you see, is set five minutes fast, so I always think I have an extra five minutes to sleep. It works for me. Really. My feet finally hit the floor at 5:40 and I trudge to the bathroom to begin my get ready ritual.

I'm one of those chicks who has to wash her hair every single morning before facing her people. My shampoo of choice is Prell. It smells clean, fresh, and nothing like the shampoos that sent me hurling when I was pregnant with Benjy. Shampoos, detergents, hand soaps, perfumes. Oh, the scents that put me over the proverbial edge (of the toilet) for 105 days. The doctors finally told me to take vitamin B6 and Unisom for the nausea and, wowie wow wow, I was cured. It was a miracle, I tell you.

So, there's the hair washing, hair moussing, hair drying, hair spraying. That takes around 5 minutes tops. Short hair makes it all work out time-wise. I only lather lotion on my face, followed by blush and a tad bit of eye shadow. Lipstick tops the ensemble and I'm bound to smear a bit on Eaglescout before we bid adieu. Usually he doesn't even know. Clothes are a cinch if only I could decide what to wear.

I swear, it's not the getting ready part that causes me to fret and yell and turn into a raging monster at 6:30 every school morning. It's the boys' get ready ritual that brings out my less flattering side. While I can create a do and find clothes to wear in 20 minutes, again, compressing the unnecessary parts like when Eaglescout wants to dance while the day's forecast is on so I have to dance and then catch the next forecast segment, the boys dilly dally and talk and waste toothpaste for 40 minutes. And they don't even get up till 6:00! By the time they've wolfed down waffles and milk and vitamins and not a little sugary maple syrup and brushed their teeth, it's 6:37 on the clock and I'm in full-out panic mode. Then we have to find our shoes. Great day in the morning, who hid the shoes?!!! We are lucky if we scream out of the garage at 6:48 on my van clock. This clock is set three minutes fast, and so I know it's really only 6:45, but I have to be in Armbrust at 7:00. That's hardly legal. By the way, did you ever notice how folks around these parts don't pronounce it Arm-brust? They say Arm-Burst. As in "my arm burst into a gazillion pieces of flesh and bones." This drives me up a tree, but nobody cares. They continue to butcher the pronunciation, but I refuse to give in. Even if I look weird.

So, what's your morning like? Blog about it, people. You know you need something meaningless to write about. And I need something mindless to read. :)