I’m finally sitting down, freshly brewed cup of glorious coffee in front of me. I close my eyes, I take a deep breath in and revel in the rare stillness of my kitchen.
Waking up the kids was extremely hard this morning, almost a surgical procedure to remove them from their beds. Getting them to brush their teeth was equal to pulling their teeth, and of course socks were lost (which resulted in my 5-year-old not being able to dress himself at all!); that elusive school book that hid in the black hole that is their room and the never-ending arguments about just why watching the telly is just not an option before school, added to the typical mayhem that is a Monday morning at our house.
Now, with two at school, one at pre-school and one in front of the telly (the power of Mickey Mouse to save my sanity!), it is finally quiet.
Too quiet, as I realise too late: my 2-year-old comes into the kitchen to show me his arm: perfectly coloured in with a blue marker. I just hope he is the only thing he coloured in with that.
I go and clean him up, remove the marker stains on the living room floor (which thankfully is laminate and not carpet) and put all markers out of his reach before sitting back down at the kitchen table. Finally, I’ll get my coffee.
Which is cold. As usual.