the two hours before breakfast

Awake to a child one inch in front of my face yelling “time to make smoothies mama!”

Tell him to go eat a banana while I try to stumble out of bed.

Go to the bathroom, put in contact lenses.

Wrestle my compression stockings on.

Rest for a minute.

Take my blood pressure. It’s normal...for now.

Find him in the bathroom naked and washing his hands.

His overnight diaper is dry…the bathroom is not - Time Out #1.

Wipe up the counter, floor, toilet seat, and wall.

Take down the shower curtain, rinse out the shower.

Help him clean up and dress himself.

Re-fold and put away the rejected wardrobe options.

Go through the hampers to find enough laundry to make up a load and put everything in the washer with the shower curtain.

Wipe up bits of banana that have been left around the house.

Make my bed.

Find him trying to build a fire in the fireplace - Time Out #2.

Assemble the truckload of vitamins and medications I am taking and attempt not to throw up while choking each one down.

Hear him “accidentally” dump over the basket of freshly folded laundry in my room - Time Out #3.

Pick up and re-fold the laundry.

Discover we don’t have ingredients for smoothies.

Toast him a bagel and pour him a glass of milk.

Deny his request for ranch dressing on his bagel and convince him to go with nut butter.

Get him in his chair, pray for strength for the rest of this day, serve him his food.

Toast my bagel, pour my milk.

Get him another glass of milk (he did said please).

Sit down to eat my breakfast.

Take a deep breath and look out at the sunny day.

Realize how thankful I am.