Each morning, I am a mom-nado, whirling and twirling through the house, attempting to touch everything in my path. I move from the bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen and garage, reaching out to pack a lunch, wipe a runny nose, grab a pair of socks (clean or dirty), stuff a kid in a coat, and blow out the door. I am thankful for our small rural town and the short commute to daycare and work.
After safely depositing my children off at daycare, I breeze into work, putting my first job as a mom physically on the back burner, but not mentally. I turn my attention to my second job as a teacher, giving as much compassion, structure, and effort as I can muster. It's a tough job made easier knowing that the faces I see are someone else's first job. Together we read, discuss, read, listen, write, read, and study.
In my massive 34-minute lunch period, I manage to eat, go to the bathroom, and accomplish any number of other menial tasks, such as calling to verify dental insurance, write up a detention, reschedule a doctor appointment, correct a quiz, check to see if any new article assignments have been posted, or discuss a student concern with another teacher.
Then it's teach, read, lecture, read, prepare for tomorrow, and leave. Next I'm off to the gym to squeeze in an over- too-soon workout to burn off some stress and calories. Finally, I head back to daycare to pick up the boys and return home where evidence of the mom-nado can be seen in every room.
As a family we eat dinner, play, do baths, and follow an extensive bedtime routine, hopefully leaving our house in a state of silent bliss by 8:30. For the next 90 minutes, my husband and I will collapse on the couch and enjoy each other's company and some TV before turning into bed.
I know that at no other time in my life I have slept less or done more laundry, nor do I always look the way I like or remember everything I need. I can tell you that the number of coherent conversations with my husband has decreased and my knowledge of all things Disney has grown exponentially, but I also know I have never loved or been loved more.