Friends, I give you the story behind the concealer on the stairwell railing:
No, I was not sitting on the ledge doing my make up.
Here's how mornings at my house have historically gone:
7:15 ish: My youngest stumbles out to the living room with her eyes barely open, grasping her blankie, and crawls up into my lap for our morning snuggles.
7:30 ish (that's a big ish. Actually, it's more like 7:40 because I'm a procrastinator and I'm trying to savor my last few sips of coffee.) I wake up my first born, who will growl, push me away, and huff and puff until she finally blinks awake and stares angrily at me. This is karma at work, because I spent years doing the exact same thing to my own poor mother.
7:55 ish: After having instructed my oldest to get dressed, I make breakfast for us, which consists of a bowl of cold cereal (poured with the greatest of love, of course-the love is what’s important, here).
8 ish: We're all sitting down munching our cereal. ...or spilling our cereal, or fighting over cereal, together. The important thing here is that we do it TOGETHER.
8:10 ish: I rinse my bowl, instruct the girls to brush their teeth and put on their shoes and socks while I run upstairs to throw on clothes and do whatever "getting ready" I have time for (the term “getting ready” is very generous. Maybe I should change that to “Walmart-ready”).
8:12 ish: I hear the yelling or crying of an argument that has escalated coming from downstairs. I try yelling down from the top of the stairs "Girls! Please be kind to one another, and brush your teeth!" This parenting technique is very effective. Except for when it's not. Which is 90% of the time.
8:15 ish: I hear bare feet stomping up the stairs (still no shoes), and the owner of said feet commences to file a complaint about something, usually her sister. I begin my brilliant mediating while brushing my own teeth, which would smooth it all over if only the listener could understand what I'm saying through the foamy toothpaste falling out of my mouth. After spitting, I redirect and send the little rascal down to please put on socks and shoes.
8:20 ish: After hearing a crash and a delayed cry, I drop what I'm doing and sprint down the stairs, sometimes halfway dressed. I scoop up and comfort and then promptly distract so I can return to complete my ultra-fashionable* look for the day.
8:25 precisely: My alarm entitled "Walk out the door!!!" goes off on my phone, yelling at me to put some hustle in my bustle. I call to the kids "That was the alarm! Time to leave!" as I bounce down the stairs, into my boots and coat, and out the door.
That’s the gist, except sometimes we add a few more hiccups in there, which throws our time off, and we end up having to drive because we're late, like the morning depicted in this photo. On one of the many trips I made downstairs to mediate or troubleshoot for the girlies, I set down whatever was in my hand in whatever spot seemed convenient in the moment, thus the concealer on the stair ledge.
So on this particular day, my make up routine was as follows (oh yeah, bonus on this blogpost, you’re getting a makeup tutorial!!! I know, I know, it’s just too much.):
-Cover up one bright red zit.
-The end. Because kids.
If you see me lookin’ fabulous—aka you notice one less zit on my face than usual—you’ll know how awesome my morning has gone.
I wish you smooth, relaxing mornings with no referreeing and no spilled milk.
And if you don’t have that, I at least wish you the deep, abiding knowledge that you are loved.
...And that you’re lookin’ gorgeous with that one zit covered up. You’re killin’ it.
P.S. Now that it’s April and the school year is nearly over, I figured out my daughter’s dang confusing alarm clock. So she woke up on her own (no growling at me! Glory!) and got dressed on time, had a fairly leisurely breakfast, and all went very smoothly this morning. I’m praying hard that this trend continues. Still no makeup today, but we were dressed and to school on time! Hallelujah!
P.S.S Do you have any tips for making your mornings go smoother? Do you have any funny stories from mornings that have not gone swimmingly?