It Only Took Ten Years

Tuesday morning, and my husband and I were at a café by the kids' school; Just the two of us. He had a stroller and 20 minutes before a meeting. I had nowhere to be until nine.

Just a Tuesday. Nothing special. It only took ten years...

With four kids, every school morning includes:

• 8 individual shoes

• 3 heads of hair (1 is too short to worry about)

• 4 bowls of cereal (1 with a straw, 3 without)

• 4 glasses of water (if we remember)

• 4 spoons (not the big ones, not the round ones — the just right ones)

• 80–96 brushed teeth (depending on how many are loose)

• 4–6 shots of espresso (my husband; non-negotiable)

• 1 cup of tea (me, if I'm lucky)

• 4 bodies out the door

In winter, you can add: 4 snow pants, 8 snow boots, 4 pairs of gloves, 4 hats, and 4 coats, at a minimum.

For a long time, one of us was managing it. We weren't really alone, we just didn't know what the other was doing. So you didn't know when it wasn't your turn anymore. And when someone would disappear to the shower, or go look for something (like I need to find the youngest's glasses, right now, with my phone in hand), you'd be irritated.

Basically, a conflict-inducing game of chicken which usually left one person doing it all: The youngest begging to be fed, the 6-year-old completely absorbed in Legos, the eldest putting on her socks like she has absolutely nowhere to be, and the 9-year-old with shoes on, backpack on, and walking out the door (likely in self-defense).

It wasn't a morning routine. It was more of a survival exercise.

At some point, we both needed a break.

So, my husband stopped coming upstairs and I stopped going down. An every person for themselves sanity saving tactic.

He stayed downstairs. Coffee. Packed lunches. Breakfast.

I stayed upstairs. Wake the kids. Pick up the clothes that didn't make it to the laundry. Get my oldest out of bed at the last possible second.

Once everyone heads downstairs, I'm done till 7:40.

Sometimes I brush my teeth. Occasionally I get dressed. But I get a break before I continue the chaos downstairs for the two-on-four game of hair, teeth and shoes.

My husband clocks out once I walk away with the littles in the stroller, and he shuts the garage door. Sometimes he walks with us, but now that's a nice-to-have, not a have-to.

Which is how we ended up getting coffee on a Tuesday. Nothing special. Just a morning that worked. I did my morning job. He did his morning job.

We probably should have talked about it sooner. It certainly would have made it easier.

Upstairs. Downstairs. That's it. (And no-disappearing for either of us. That rule matters.)

Have a morning system that actually works? Drop it in the comments. I'd love to hear it. And try it out!

Know someone still in morning survival mode? Send it their way.

We started Thymely Games because figuring out how to be a team shouldn't take ten years. Get on the list and be first to play.

Go have fun!

Michelle

Co-Founder, Thymely Games