I take my kids to school in pajamas.

It was a Tuesday, 6:40 in the morning and still dark. My husband was traveling, so a solo week.

My alarm went off, and I closed my eyes again. (I'd been up late finishing a presentation, and then maybe I snuck in an episode of The Pitt.) When I opened them, it was 6:55.

Time to wake the kids.

My nine-year-old first. She needs time and is reliably the least grumpy of the bunch. I use her stuffed dog pretends to lick her face. Eyes open, eyes close. Eventually she asks me to lay out her clothes. (Which I do.)

Then the six-year-old, still mid-meltdown over a show that ended on a cliffhanger the night before. He woke up crying, "I didn't get to finish the show!" Yes, buddy, that's what cliffhangers feel like.

I grab his clothes from the drawers and keep moving.

The four-year-old likes to pretend sleep. I kiss her cheek. She smiles but keeps her eyes closed. I bounce the bed and pretend there's an earthquake. Another smile. I start getting her dressed while she keeps pretending.

Back to each room one more time. Hand holding through the hall and down the stairs for the four-year-old. Another attempt to describe to my six-year-old why in the world anyone would end a show on a cliffhanger! (Seriously, why?!) Last, I wake the oldest, who insists on getting up at the very last second.

By the time I've herded the cats (I mean, kids) close to the front door, there's no time for me to get dressed.

Blue and red plaid pajamas. Pink and orange striped socks. Long jacket. Hat. My yellow sandals I switch for boots.

I leave.

(Gotta keep that momentum going. And you can get away with almost anything under a long winter coat. Which is precisely the point.)

I'm fairly certain I look like I just woke up. But it's winter in Boston.

My morning bare minimum is: Kids at school on time. Dressed. Fed. Hair and teeth brushed. Shoes on.

And if that is it, I don't make the cut. Practically, I don't really need to be showered, dressed, or fed to get the kids to school on time. Anything above the bare minimum is a bonus. Real life is a lot of small stuff.

Oddly, I get quite a bit out of this arrangement. Finished my work presentation. An episode of The Pitt. And my favorite, 40 minutes more sleep.

So, PJs. 100%. And on the days I actually do get dressed, I get:

"Mom, why are you dressed like that?"

"Where are you going?"

"What's wrong?"

Nothing's wrong. I have a meeting. I have class today. It's teacher conference day. Real life is full of reasons.

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Have a bare minimum that gets you through the morning? Drop it in the comments. I'd love to hear it. And if it's lower than mine, I'm taking notes. It will help me get more done!

Know someone whose mornings look a lot like this? Send it their way.

We started Thymely Games to make the everyday stuff a little more fun. Get on the list and be first to play.

Go have fun!

Michelle

Co-Founder, Thymely Games