My day usually starts way too early.
The alarm goes off somewhere between 4:45 and 5:30
depending on if it's a hair washin' morning -
don't make that face, 30 minutes of extra sleep
is worth rockin' a ponytail all day.
Then I get ready for work as quietly as possible -
as not to wake Hannah -
and usually in the dark -
as not to wake Chris.
I run out the door -
usually forgetting my coffee, or lunch, or cell phone -
and drive an hour to work.
Once I'm at work I have 5 too many things on my plate,
coworkers whose comments verge on harassment -
including continually making the comment that
I must not love my child since I'm a working mother -
and waiting, praying, longing for the moment
the clock strikes 5:30 and I can leave.
The transition slowly starts to happen during that car ride home.
If we haven't been hit with rain, snow, or high winds, then the drive is fairly fluid and I'm able to focus on the interesting Talk Radio interview, jam out to Britney, or laugh along with the afternoon radio show's hi jinx.
I begin to relax and prepare to start my REAL life.
Those hours from 6:30 to bedtime are magical.
I walk into the room and people are happy to see me.
- they literally run squealing with delight at the very sight of me.
My husband made a fabulous dinner after getting home from work earlier -
tonight's selection is Salmon in an amazing cream sauce
that he created on the fly, and Hannah's favorite rice.
We all sit around gushing about the fabulous dinner -
except Hannah who has decided that she hates Salmon but is perfectly content to eat every grain of rice on her plate -
and discussing our day
I mainly stick to funny anecdotes or news stories I stumbled upon during my break - I refuse to let anyone ruin this moment.
Later we drive to Dairy Queen for a special treat.
Hannah and I share a plain cone while Chris eats his blizzard.
Hannah flirts with everyone, dances on the bench and
waves to all the cars going 'bye bye' at the drive thru.
It's an amazing moment.
We're all happy exhausted and drunk on ice cream.
During the drive home Hannah announces all her
body parts and we smile at how smart she's getting.
And once home we slowly begin preparing for bedtime -
kisses, hugs, smiles, and magical stories.
If you ignore the sink full of dishes or
the stacks of laundry waiting to be put away -
which I do -