And the winner is..........

And the winner is..........
Redsaid. She won the blog entry contest. But, guess who won second? Little old me. Woo-hoo!!!!!! The best part is, someone who didn't even know me, and therefore wasn't paid to be nice, said I was an amazingly funny writer. I am happy beyond belief.

Here is my third entry. The first one, the potty story, is in the March archives, and the second one, My most embarrassing moment, is I think one archive back.

How to get my family ready for the day without going crazy

Number of children in the family: 6
Number of kids who need to be at school: 3
Time that the first alarm rings: 6:00 a.m.
Number of times that I hit the snooze button: 4

Yep, it's morning. I roll over and pull my way out of bed, being very careful not to squish the 4 month old plastered up next to me. Stagger to the bathroom, throw some water in the direction of my face, and stumble to the boy's room. I plaster on my cheerful mommy face, complete with the oh-so-chipper voice. I wake the oldest, trying not to wake the youngest boy. Next stop, the girl's room - waking the two big girls and not the youngest. Back to the boys room, and then back to the girls. It takes, oh, four trips back and forth before I am convinced that they are moving towards life.

Number of people to be fed: 8
Number of people who eat the same breakfast: 0
Number of lunches to pack: 4
Number of people who want to help: 0

Checking my mental how to list, I discover that food is the next step. One loves eggs, one hates them, two will tolerate them. So, eggs it is. I scramble up eight, separate them into four plates. I pull the pepper away from one child, put a bib on another, pour two milks, one soy milk, one regular oj and one low acid oj. The non egg eater gets a cup of yogurt and a banana. Into the blender goes breakfast for the hubby: 1 cup grape juice, 1 banana, protein powder, All-Bran and canned low salt peas. I try (unsuccessfully) not to gag. Next step: lunches. Three peanut butter sandwiches, three bags of chips, three pieces of fruit, three juice boxes, and cookies are tossed into the kids' lunchboxes. Hubby's lunch consists of whatever leftovers are available, or a grilled chicken breast. Ooops, forgot to do that - toss a frozen one on the George Foreman, set the timer for 16 minutes, and move to the next step.

Number of kids who have asthma: 5
Number of medications and supplements every morning: 4 for each child, plus five for the hubby

Check to see that the vitamins are chewed and swallowed, not sucked on. (All together now, ewwww!) Remind the oldest child that not taking his medication does NOT mean you don't have asthma - it can't be wished away. Tell him to take his medication. Tell him again. Stand by him until he actually takes said medication. Take a deep breath and wish for an instant infusion of sanity, and make it a double.

Number of last minute details: 1,000,000
Number of people with tasks that need to be completed in the next 7 minutes: 7
Number of people available to complete all of the tasks: 1

Turn off the television, which no one claims to have turned on, but everyone is watching. Send the oldest girl upstairs to get the hairbrush and hair holders. Send the six year old girl to wash the egg off her arms, legs and face, and then pick the egg out of her hair. I run upstairs and avoid looking in the mirror as much as possible. Taking a quick glance at the shorts from yesterday, I decide that no one notices me anyway, so a second day in them will be ok. Yell downstairs for everyone to put on their shoes, quit bouncing balls in the house, stop flying planes in the house, don't tease your sister, and brush your teeth. Accidentally catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, sigh, and vow to start that diet/exercise program. Sign the 15 papers that have appeared magically from the time of school dismissal, when there was nothing that needed to be signed, and this morning, when they MUST be signed or risk sitting on the curb during recess. Toss the diapers that were in the washer into the dryer, and start another load of clothes. Yell for everyone to head to the van, remember their bookbags/lunches/instruments/snacks and help buckle the little kids.

Number of seats in my van: 15
Number of car seats/booster seats/infant seats: 4
Number of people who can buckle the others in, besides Mom: 3
Number of people who feel like they should do the buckling: 0
Length of drive to school: 8 minutes, with no traffic, or 30 with traffic
Amount of coffee consumed so far: not.one.drop

After buckling everyone in, I back down the driveway and roll down the road. Turn the van around and pull back into the driveway for the forgotten lunches. I (briefly!) host an internal debate to see if I should put on a DVD, decide that it's only 7:30 and I should be able to deal with the kids. After all, once I get the big three to school, the day relaxes. Gaze longingly at the Starbucks with a drive thru that is right on the way to school, and promise myself if I survive the drop off, it will be my first stop. Encounter the first of 15 ill-timed stoplights, and try to placate oldest son who has the patience of a gnat. Promise that NO ONE will be tardy today, not if I can help it. Rummage through the car, locate the tissues and hand them out to the kids, who all have runny noses. This triggers the reminder that I need more tissues, and I grab a sheet of paper to jot down a quick grocery list. Pull over the first of four times to mediate an argument, and swear to myself that I will discover a better seating arrangement, one that will lead to a quiet car. Decide that I must be high to think that this will ever happen. Pull into the school parking lot, try not to cackle with glee that I am off loading three children, and promise that I will miss them the entire day.

Take a nice, deep breath, and turn the car towards Starbucks. Revel in the fact that the next 8 hours there are only three children here, and I don't have to repeat the morning routine for 23 hours.