I only WISH I appeared this calm, cool and collected to my students this morning!

It was…one of THOSE mornings…

I had woken up at 5:30am, glanced at the clock, and happily turned over and burrowed back under the covers for another hour of slumber.

Not 30 seconds later, I swear, I opened my eyes to: 8:28 staring back at me.

My heart skipped a beat, no ten. I honestly cannot tell you how I got vertical, as it happened so fast, but I can tell you this: my bed looked like someone had taken a giant egg-beater to it. I have had the experience of waking in the middle of the night to my house on fire, and this morning I was moving faster than THAT.

I flew out my bedroom door and nearly collided with Prima Donna Daughter who was non-chalantly heading into my room. I swear to you, I screamed, “Why didn’t you wake anyone up???!!!!!” at PDD and “Get UP! We’re gonna be LATE!!!” to Second Son , both at the same time. I have often said my children look at me sometimes like I’ve grown a second head right in front of them. I think this morning I may actually have done it – it’s the only explanation I can come up with.

Into the bathroom to pee. Washed my hands and dried them running my fingers through my hair, which of COURSE, this morning looked like birds had nested in it overnight. Shrieking, “OMG…OMG…” I skip the toothbrush, praying there’s at least one piece of mint gum left in my purse, and head back to the bedroom to find clothing appropriate for…well, hell…no time for that, either. Jeans will have to do.

8:33 says the alarm clock that, for some reason, did not go off. I’m supposed to be walking through the school office door to pick up keys and attendance sheets in 2 minutes. The school is 6 miles away and I have a child to take to her school on the way. Definitely not good.

8:34 Yanking on jeans with one hand, rummaging through dresser drawer for a sweater with the other, PDD has the nerve to ask me to fix her hair. “I hope you had a bowl of cereal while you were enjoying your leisurely morning,” I tell her, “because you are now officially 39 minutes late for school! You’ve got 3 seconds to get those shoes tied, girly.”

Out in the other end of the house I hear the dryer door shut and the dryer start it’s hum. “OMG – no – do NOT tell me Second Son is…OK, no…he’s not drying clothes – he’s warming them,” as I catch a glimpse of my bangs after pulling my head through a sweater. They are STILL sticking straight up – seriously – like I CANNOT EVEN get my hair to do with gel. Oh no – hair products don’t work, but apparently sleeping with your face jammed in a pillow for 3 hours will do the trick.

Hopping to the bathroom pulling on socks, I grab for the blow dryer and promptly pull everything off the shelf. Second Son yells from his bedroom, “Are you ok?”

8:36 “Yes,” I yell back, “we’re leaving in 30 seconds, ready or not!” Ten seconds on high with a round brush and I am no longer Rooster Girl. No time to put on a face – will have to pinch cheeks, lick lips and call it good. Out to my office I go to throw laptop in case and pray my much-maligned Croc knock offs are under my desk where I left them – they are – “Everyone to the car – NOW!!!!!!” One mournful glance back at the coffee pot and we’re outta here.

8:38 I call PDD’s school on my cell phone to explain her tardiness while I slow down just long enough for her to jump out of the car. Thirty seconds later, I’m on the first highway. Second Son eyes the clock in the car 8:41 and the traffic and shakes his head as I cross 4 lanes of traffic to not miss the turn-off for the southbound highway that takes us to within 2 miles of the school.

8:46 We pull into the school parking lot. He jumps out and heads toward the door at a dead run because his first hour class is on the 4th floor. Mine is too, but I have to go to the office, check in, get keys and attendance sheets first.

I fly in the office and the lady in charge of substitutes has my folder and keys in her hand. She passes them off to me like we’ve been running relay races for years and says, “Try to have a good day!”

Four flights of stairs and what feels like 4 hours later, I hit the 4th floor panting, unable to talk, convinced I’m having a heart attack. I stagger down the hall, groping for the correct key on this damn key ring she gave me as the kids, who are locked out in the hallway, see me round the corner. They part like the waters of the Red Sea, I get the door unlocked and fall into the chair at the desk as the tardy bell rings.

The rest of my day was uneventful.