Mornings: A Ballet of Carefully Coordinated Seeming Chaos

The morning is an intense (focused?) time in my home schooling family. I suspect that regardless of whether children school at home or somewhere away, mothers have a tremendous amount to do to accomplish everything that needs to be done in the morning. I'm glad that I don't have to manage it all by 6:40 a.m., which is when I see the school bus drive by our home. Currently I aim to begin school at nine o'clock.

I can't count, but it's been rare that I've been able to get ready in the morning by myself during the last seven years. I was reflecting this morning on the seeming chaos that is actually a carefully synchronized list of tasks while I moved us through our morning routine. Maybe some of these things are peculiar to a home schooling family, maybe some are particular to families with numerous children, maybe some are shared with all families of little ones.

5:45 a.m.

The baby woke for the day. Who needs an alarm clock? I haven't used one in seven years and, believe me, I never sleep in.

Downstairs with baby and bag of laundry in hand. Drink coffee. Change diaper.

Skip morning exercise because I am recovering from a cold. Sniffle, sniffle.

6:00 a.m.

Six-year-old comes downstairs and babysits the baby for me while I check email and do my daily spiritual reading.

Boys join me in the bonus room while I check lesson plans, stock school work boxes for the day, and prepare in advance the morning snacks. Make sure school room is picked up of any toys.

6:30 a.m.

Four-year-old comes downstairs. If three of four are up, the last should be up too, so I go upstairs to wake the two-year-old, taking last night's clean laundry upstairs with me. We snuggle in bed for a few minutes, she meows and says, "I love you, Mommy Kitten." Go back to the kitchen. Retrieve baby from six-year-old's care, set him in a booster seat to watch the hustle and bustle.

6:45 a.m.

Normally this is when the assigned child of the day would empty the dishwasher, but she is free of it today because we had so few dishes last night--a rare treat!

I start cooking hot breakfast. I'm variously replying to and fending off requests about food preparation from three children rather like a tennis pro running across the court, hitting balls away.

7:00 a.m.

Lead children in Morning Offering, Angel of God prayer, and Blessing Before Meals. My heart sings to see that the two-year-old, who has long had the latter two prayers memorized and is half way there with the Morning Offering also!

Breakfast is served. Sometimes I read edifying stories to the children during this time (captive audience!), but today I read a Catholic newspaper silently to myself. Read about St. Aloysius Gonzaga and make a mental note to teach the children about this patron of youth.

Correct children for inane, ridiculous conversation and noises at the table. Prod them to eat because the kitchen is closing soon. (Finally learned that lesson: even at home, do not leave the kitchen "open" for grazing all day!)

Clear my dishes and load into the dishwasher all dishes I can while children are still eating. Start my first load of laundry (laundry, every day!). Occupy two-year-old who is now done eating by asking her to "help" me. I dump all the clothing on the floor and ask her to hand me them one by one for inspection and treating of stains. She is thrilled.

While I'm in the laundry room, the children escape upstairs to get dressed. I note that they haven't cleared their plates and I do not do it for them.

8:00 a.m.

Two-year-old and I go upstairs to dress for the day.

Change baby's diaper and realize he is outgrowing his 6- to 9-month clothing. Take ten minutes to grab the bin of boys' 12-month-clothing and swap out his clothing while baby plays on the bed. Get him dressed.

Meanwhile, children are happily playing "fort" in boys' room. A scheme is being concocted to build a dressing room out of various lids, pieces of wood, items of furniture, sheets draped.

I tell the six-year-old to get dressed and make his bed, which means my circling back several times to make sure he has done the work and isn't ensconced in playing Legos.

The baby is exhausted for his first morning nap since he's been up for two hours now. In families with numerous children, there is always daily juggling with who naps where without waking others. I take him to the master bed to nurse him down, which should take only five to ten minutes. Meanwhile, I am hearing the four-year-old screaming her heart out. It sounds bad, but this child has a real problem with "crying wolf," so I ignore it. Then I hear the six-year-old go downstairs in search of me, so I think there might really be something wrong.

I leave the baby (who was almost asleep, so now he is crying hysterically) to investigate. The four-year-old is found in the boys' room in hysterics and holding a cut on the underside of her wrist. I start shouting (mental note: take that to Confession) because a three-inch cut over wrist veins scares me just a li'l bit. Boy is sent into time out while I dress girl's wound. I put them in separate rooms with grave warnings not to come out while I nurse down the shrieking baby again. Meanwhile, big girl is getting herself dressed. I use that time to take deep breaths and pray before investigating further. Calm down, calm down.

Baby is asleep. I feel pressure that we're "late" for school with all this nonsense, but this is the school of life. Tending to these matters--which come up approximately a zillion times a day--is learning the most important lessons. I find the boy contrite, curled up with a stuffed animals, with tears in his eyes over how he injured his sister. We talk very calmly to find out what happened. We go to the girls' room and talk through what happened. We have a talk about (1) taking care of each other as family members because God put our specific souls in one family, (2) why Girl's problem of crying wolf is why I didn't respond to her screams for about five minutes, and (3) why cuts on certain veins are deadly dangerous. Everyone feels better.

8:20 a.m.

I dress the two-year-old. Correction: I start to dress her and she declares that she is going to do everything herself. I try to foster independence. The sooner a toddler can do something for herself, the better to make way for my caring for the next baby coming up in age. But the price to pay for letting a toddler do something herself is that it takes oh-so-long. I sit there, on hand to help, while toddler dresses herself, including her own diaper, every single slow step of the way. The four-year-old and I make the girls' beds.

I supervise brushing of teeth. Tantrum on the bathroom tile ensues because I didn't put on an entire tablespoon of toothpaste on the toddler's toothbrush. I walk away.

8:30 a.m.

The two big kids are sent separate rooms to play quietly while Mama finally dresses.

But two-year-old keeps crying for me over the toothpaste drama and doesn't want to be left behind. If I lock her out of my room, she will rattle the door till she wakes the baby. If I bring her in with me, her voice might well wake the baby. It is a gamble I take as she stands outside my door wailing.

I hand her a feather duster and ask her to dust very quietly in my bathroom while I get dressed. Some days there is time for makeup and a braid. Today, no: teeth brushed and hair swept into a pony tail will have to do.

8:40 a.m.

We slip out without having woken the baby and I breathe a sigh of relief.

I tell the four-year-old to do her morning chore of refreshing all the towels in the bathrooms and the six-year-old to do his morning chore of emptying all the bathroom trash cans, which they do lickety split.

Downstairs I point to the children's forgotten plates, I start the dishwasher, and change the first load of laundry.

Amazingly, we have fifteen free minutes before my goal of starting school by 9:00 so I tell the children they have the treat of playing a CD of music of story until School Time. They choose "Songs for God and Country" and are so happy . . .

. . . until the latest fighting erupts and injuries occur, with various rounds of privileges revoked and time outs administered.

And then it's time for school, which will keep us occupied for at least two hours.

It might sound loud and look like chaos, but it's not! It has taken me much deliberation and purposefulness to get to this point where our mornings are this efficient and productive, but I'm sure I have much room for improvement.



Inspirational Quote


Joy: A state of happiness that comes from knowing and serving God.

Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta: “We are at Jesus' disposal. If he wants you to be sick in bed, if he wants you to proclaim His work in the street, if he wants you to clean the toilets all day, that's all right, everything is all right. We must say, "I belong to you. You can do whatever you like." And this is our strength, and this is the joy of the Lord.”