Reality A.M.


After this morning, Phil declared to nobody in particular, “We should be a reality show”, to which I replied “Nobody would ever want to see this” to which he responded, “Everybody loves a train wreck.”

It was just a typical morning at Casa Martin. Phil’s alarm went off at who knows what time, and by the third snooze song, we had decided whose turn it was to get out of the warm comfy bed to turn up the heat (we sleep with it at 60 degrees) and take the first shower. Phil came up with the short straw this morning. But he made sure to turn around saying “That means you have to make the kick arse coffee (no really, that’s what it’s called, and it’s amazing) and get the kid’s breakfast ready!” a little too gleefully for my liking at 6:05 am.

I got up at 6:12 to make said coffee – 3 cups each for our travel mugs – and poured generic cheerios from a ripped bag the size of a small country into 5 bowls. I put milk in Xander’s bowl to let the “yeerios” soften and Maggie came downstairs, claimed the bowl with the most cereal as hers, and started to get dressed.

I jumped in the shower (Phil was done…this is a G rated blog) and had .004 seconds of peace and quiet before Maggie comes in whining that her pants don’t look right. I peek out and realize she is wearing leggings, not pants, and then she proceeds to melt down saying “I’m not allowed to wear leggings without a skirt over it!” and while I love that she’s following the modesty rules, I secretly wish her shirt was long enough to qualify as a skirt. “Go upstairs and pick out some pants” I say, “”OK, but I’m not wearing jeans!” she yells back.

I finish my 3 minute shower and lock myself in my bedroom to get dressed, which I have to immediately unlock because Phil hasn’t even gotten himself dressed yet since their was a big broohaha upstairs because Eamon couldn’t find his socks. We have probably 40 pairs of boys socks, but he only will wear a certain type of which we have three pairs. I head out of the bedroom to go blow dry my hair when I hear Andrew and Maggie yelling something about the cat. “Andrew, what is going on?” “The cat jumped up into the sink and got soap on her tail!” (I stupidly bought an automatic soap dispenser for the kitchen sink thinking it would be helpful, but it turned out to be one of my worst purchases ever because it dispenses too much soap at a time (smart soap company) which makes us wait to pile up enough dishes to keep the soap to dishes ratio at a minimum. It’s also stupid because the cat has gotten soap on her tail…twice.)

I finish blow drying my hair, which is so thin that it takes about 2.6 minutes and I’m hoping the biotin that the doctor hairdresser prescribed will start working on the sooner side of later. Phil declares victory upon finding the only tie that matches with the shirt he’s picked out. I put on my big girl glasses to camouflage the puffiness of my face and I’m good to go.

That's some mad professional photography skills

That’s some mad professional photography skills

Meanwhile, out in the kitchen, Maggie is beginning to whimper because I told her to go see Dad to put a pony tail in her hair…”But but but he hurts”, I tell her to go before she loses a minute (from their nightly tv show…it’s our current discipline tactic and it works like a charm) which sends her into tears but she does obey. Who said girls are easy? Oh right, nobody.ever.

I whip up my pancake batter a la Grace (two eggs, one ripe mashed banana, cinnamon and vanilla) in a bowl and start cooking breakfast for Phil and myself. Alexander throws his yeerios on the floor and the cat begins eating them. Phil looks at me like “should we take him out of the prison cell highchair and let him free before we’re ready to strap him into the moving prison cell car seat?” Umm, no. Just give him a sippy cup of water.

John-Paul goes on a mad search and rescue party looking for his “sidelines”. His what? Oh his guidelines for the big project that’s due in May. Apparently something is due next week, and oh yeah, he forgot to study for the “pretty huge, but not that big” of a science test he has today. Good thing that kid’s head is attached to his neck.

We commence the yelling for everyone to get ready to go at 6:46. Kids start scrambling to find their shoes, jackets, hats, backpacks, water bottles, lunch boxes, and shove the rest of their breakfast down. Eamon requests water to drink. Phil tells him to drink the milk from his cereal. Maggie doesn’t know which shoes to wear, I tell her it’s gym day, hence sneakers. Andrew, who is definitely being the favorite of the morning, brings the baby down to the van while Phil runs down to start the cars.

After making sure all the lights are turned off, heat is turned down, food is put away, cat has food/water and a clean litterbox, packing our gym bags, and grabbing yogurt, fruit and granola bars for the adults’ lunch, we finally get everyone into the cars (Phil drops off baby, I drop off school kids) at 7:08 which means the ridiculous boat bridge will be closed and so I have to take the long way to their school. I’m about 3 minutes into the drive when I realize I left my plate of pancakes on the counter. Of course I did. Call Phil who has just left but agrees to turn around to retrieve my breakfast. Love that man. And I love our crazy life.

Copyright 2013 Colleen Martin


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1 Comment

  1. I agree with your husband. People would love watching you on reality TV! Sounds like a lot of love and a lot of fun at your house. I also must side with anyone who does say girls are easier! All the madness from multiple people you described about your morning can be attributed to my one 15-year-old son on any given morning. My younger teenage daughter is gold! I love them both, but my son is ten times more difficult.
    I enjoyed your post, and now I’m jumping over to check out your website!

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