My morning can proceed one of two ways:
Option 1: I wake up on time. After practicing yoga (this is new), the girls and I get dressed with no drama. I make a smoothie. Mini Me has cereal, and then we leave, often with smiles. (Lil’ Ma has breakfast at daycare.)
Option 2: I wake up. Maybe I’m on time, but I’m usually not. I then stand in the closet for 15 minutes pondering combinations of tops and bottoms. I try on several, and none of them work. I look at the clock, realize I’m running late, and proceed scurry around like a mad person. In the midst of this, Mini Me shows up in an frilly sundress to plant flowers at summer camp. Tears are shed as she drags herself to the closet to pick another outfit. No yoga. No smoothies. No smiles.
The difference, I’ve learned, is a five-minute investment on the weekend. For some reason, I’m much smarter about picking out a week’s worth of clothes on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon. My daughter is also better at this time, and she puts up little argument when I explain that sequins ballet flats don’t work for a trip to the pool.
At 10 months old, my youngest is fine in whatever. I’m enjoying this while it lasts.
I will admit that five minutes can turn into 10 or 15 if I need to iron a item or two, but the amount of time I save each morning, and the smiles, are well worth it.