I love my rituals. I love waking up with – much of the time – one or two kids piled on top of me or next to me. My poor husband is either pushed to the very edge or already up so he doesn’t have to suffer from muscle cramps.
My mornings were mostly consistent when I worked at a day job. I would wake up with the girls, go to the bathroom, change a diaper, pick one and sometimes both up at the top of the stairs to bring them down. Before heading down I would ask the dog to sit and stay on the landing, so she wouldn’t run me over as I tote the kids on the steps.
My husband would have my coffee waiting for me and I would put the girls on the bench in the kitchen. Their dad would make breakfast and I would sit for a few minutes before heading back up to “mop off” (shower fast).
I would usually take the bus in before the kids were even out of their pajamas. That was the hardest part for me. Leaving the girls with their dad, saying good bye and watching their faces at the window. Sometimes with tears, sad expressions or smiles depending on their mood.
And now? The old ritual has been thrown right out the front door, although my husband still makes me coffee every morning!
I feel sort of numb some mornings – maybe it’s ambivalence. I’m not sure what to make of this freedom. It’s like I’m living in an alternate world where the new Agent M is no longer type A. She is more relaxed. More easy going. Happy, yet sad. Yet more happy than sad.
I am getting reaquainted with myself, and frankly I like what I’m seeing. I like this Agent M better. She’s not stressed, intense, ready to burst if things are not going her way, short of patience when it comes to sleep deprivation… In short, the real mccoy is back and here to stay.
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