So, a typical day starts at 5:00am. This is what one refers to as an "ungodly hour." No human being should ever get up at this time of day. I drag myself out of bed and stumble to the shower, hoping that Darrell is almost finished (he gets up 10 minutes before me, the poor man). Shower, blow dry, apply makeup, get dressed - all the while hoping, praying, and keeping everything crossed that Caleb does not wake up. Because if Caleb wakes up, all bets are off.
Next comes 10 precious minutes of quiet. If I have properly prepared the night before, I can pour myself a cup of freshly brewed coffee (thank you auto-brew feature) and do a little facebook stalking. Then I get Caleb's breathing treatment ready, everything plugged in, and cartoons turned on. Caleb usually gets up without too much fuss, and if I play my cards right, I can get him strapped into his vest and hooked up and both machines going before he's fully awake. If he gets fully awake before all of this happens, again, all bets are off.
Thirty minutes later, treatments are done. Bags and lunches go in the car, and then it's upstairs to get Joshua out of bed and dressed. I (probably stupidly) leave Caleb downstairs during this process. By the time Joshua and I make it back downstairs, it looks like a tornado hit the living room. It's like Caleb knows he only has a limited amount of time to do as much damage as possible - and he is very talented at multitasking.
Now comes the putting on of jackets and shoes. For those of you who do not have young children, you don't realize the sheer amount of willpower it takes to put a jacket on a 14 month old and not succumb to the temptation to do violence. All the while Joshua is bemoaning the fact that "the sun is not up, why am I?" I don't have a good answer to that question because, as I mentioned before, this time of morning is just impossible.
Everyone into the car and buckled; remaining coffee re-heated and in the car (as opposed to on top of the car, which has happened on more than one occasion. Joshua now reminds me, "Mom, did you get your coffee off the roof of the car?") and we're off to Miss Jamie's.
It takes five to ten minutes to get both kids into our wonderful babysitter's house. She allows me to come a little before her regular drop off time because I would never make it to work on time otherwise. A couple of minutes sharing pertinent information (last time Caleb ate - generally sometime around 1:00 or 2:00am) and not-so-important information (the state of our sinuses given the latest pollen count), and I'm back in the car headed to work.
If all has gone well, I am pulling out of Miss Jamie's driveway no later than 7:02. Any later than that, and I have no prayer of making it to work by 7:30. I drive through something like 124 traffic lights on my way to work (see previous post about the nimrods who don't know how to drive on a four-lane highway) and I inevitably get stopped at every light if I'm running even two minutes late.
You can imagine how I look when I finally arrive at work. Disheveled doesn't even begin to cover it. If it weren't for a constant stream of coffee, I would not even be coherent. Close my eyes, take a deep breath, say a little prayer, and... wait, is that the bell ringing? Oh crap.....