Sometimes I'd really like to be a fly on the wall at other people's houses to observe their morning routine. Is it anything like mine? Is a hopelessly foggy head, morning breath, one missing slipper, Sesame Street, and a single cup of coffee reheated more than three times part of their morning gig? I'm a process engineer by trade. In English this means I analyze processes and design solutions that make them more efficient and effective. It means I should have my personal routines together. I should be organized, on-time, able to move to the ball. For some reason my "engineering" capability goes into hibernation while on Mom-duty.
A good example of just how effective my morning routine can be is the quality of my shower experience. Since we moved to Richmond I've been working in an office every day. When we lived in Southborough, I worked from home. My morning routine consisted of getting the kids dressed and fed, brewing coffee, loading the kids into Larry's car, and kissing everyone goodbye by 8am. Then I would go upstairs, change from my pajamas into some comfortable lounge wear, and peacefully enjoy my coffee in front of the computer.
Fast forward to the Richmond routine. Normally I hop in the shower around 6:30am, after entertaining Austin and trying, without much success, to drink a cup of coffee that's not lukewarm. This week is a bit of an exception, as Larry is in Boston for work. So both bright-eyed and bushy-tailed boys are my responsibility at 6am. This morning, in keeping with my schedule, I proceed to the shower room at 6:30am. I get in the shower. I shampoo my hair and enjoy a lovely cross breeze while the boys slide the shower doors back and forth in their tracks. I get goose bumps despite cranking the heat dial all the way up. I intervene by holding the shower doors in place with my thumb and left toe. After consulting amongst themselves, the boys settle on to another form of entertainment- Klennex. Both kids have a cold. They wipe their noses (Good!), and then proceed to "wash" the shower doors with their snot rags (Nooooo!). After finally getting the shampoo out of my hair, I release the shower doors. They open immediately. Wads of snotty tissues launch toward me and melt into the wet floor. Just lovely. I casually ask for the Klennex box, being very careful not to raise my voice, and set it on top of the shower caddy.
The boys are not even slightly discouraged. The trashcan takes center stage. After waiting until about half of the trash is shewn about the bathroom, I request the trashcan. It also joins me in the shower stall. I try desperately to prevent it from collecting pools of water by contorting my body into Yoga-like postures while simultaneously straining conditioner from my hair. By the end of my invigorating, spa-like shower experience, I have amassed an interesting collection of objects, including: an empty toilet paper roll (don't ask about the TP), a toilet brush (Ewww!), my blackberry charger, several cosmetic containers, a towel, and the aforementioned objects. Clearly, it is time to get to this show on the road.
A few hours later I'm at spin class. I noticed the guy next to me staring at my legs. Now, keep in mind this is the work gym, so no one should be looking at my legs. Then I remembered my early morning shower, and horrified- looked down at my terribly neglected and unshaven legs. Needless to say, I got those legs moving faster than fast! I have Austin and Bassem to thank for one heck of a spin workout today :)
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