I sometimes daydream about the perfect morning. When baby Molly sleeps in (after sleeping through the night, of course) and the girls wake up and decide to just go downstairs and play quietly by themselves. I awake, completely refreshed, and turn on the television to enjoy a few sweet moments with Matt Lauer. The news stories of the day are about the Dow hitting 14,000 and a fashion report all about the return of scrunchies. So far, so good.
Eventually I drag myself out of bed to take a fabulous shower where, when I condition my hair, I cannot find a single split end. I get out of the shower, get dressed in pants that are comfortable but yet stylish, along with a nice sweater, blue, of course, and when I go downstairs I find that a Starbucks has been placed in my kitchen and a barista is ready with my Venti no-whip hot chocolate and my cream cheese chocolate muffin.
Man, that would be nice.
Instead, Molly woke me up for the third time that night at a questionable hour. Emma was already in my room, asking if she could watch one of "her shows": note -- anything that did not have Matt Lauer in it. Split ends abound. My blow drier is broken! No barista. I had to make my own hot cocoa. No muffin. And then Macey crammed too many pancakes in her mouth and she . . .never mind.
The afternoon will definitely be better.