Are my pants on?

The thought of childbirth didn't scare me as much as the thought of this task.  While I was pregnant with my Laurel and then Rachel, I had no idea how I was going to do it.   How the hell was I going to get ready for work while getting a child ready for their day at daycare and leave ON TIME?  The anticipation of this task scared the bejesus out of me so much that we hired a nanny during Laurel's first year to avoid the "getting her ready part."  (Oh the nanny issues..that is a juicy subject for later.)

Over time, we acclimated but still, as soon as the alarm goes off, my reaction is "oh shit."  My reaction is not about getting up but rather what I may face during the next two hours.  Currently my timeline, which starts at 5:30,  is pee, shower, (maybe wash my hair) brush teeth, do hair, make up, dress, fly downstairs to make lunches and get everyone's stuff together.  All of this must get done by 6:40--while 70 minutes is a long time, it does take some time to look as good as I do.  At 6:40, the girls get up, Ching dresses Rachel.  (After this task, he disappears and gets himself ready.  The morning is really my gig.)  I get Laurel up and prompt her to pee, get dressed, breakfast, hair, teeth, sneakers, jacket, out the door.  I also try to coax Rachel to eat something..quickly wash her face, sneakers, jacket, out the door. Sounds simple but when I have to start using phrases like "let's hustle", "chop chop" or just a simple "Come on!", it's not good.

There are the unexpected obstacles that pop up:  Laurel is cranky; Rachel is cranky; Laurel doesn't want to get dressed; Rachel doesn't want to let go of Ching; Laurel is having a bad hair day (really? At 5 years old? Girl, you don't even know yet); Rachel needs to be changed for a second time and while changing her, her ass explodes all over my suit (true story);  Laurel is rummaging in her room for a headband; Rachel is trying to go up the stairs by herself; Laurel doesn't want to go to school;  Rachel doesn't want to get in her car seat and Laurel is
hungry again.  (In almost six years since having Laurel, there has only been one morning, when I said, "the hell with it" and stayed home.)

But 95% of the time, we get out of the house on time.  Granted there are several mornings when I have to tell myself to look down and actually check to see if I have remembered my own pants.  (I am definitely staying home if I ever forget.)