I’m a goofy odd sort of person, and I’m not one of what many consider to be “new agey” or “millennial” in mentality. The meaning being that unlike most of todays popular 20s’-30s’ budding adults, I believe in the classics. Routine is important to me, and my kids help me stick to that routine for the most part. The first thing I do when I awake is I go to the restroom usually with a song in my head from whatever dream it was I had that I can’t really recollect. I do my bathroom routine then get the kids cleaned up and downstairs usually no later than 7:30am, sometimes as late as 8am and on extreme rare occasions they let mama sleep in, 9am. My pattern is that as soon as I get the kids seated for breakfast, I feed them whatever is the breakfast for the day. Be it pancakes, french toast, eggs, cheerios, or oatmeal with whatever assorted fruit I have at the time. Once the kids are seated with their food and have begun eating, I get to sweeping the floors and doing the dishes. This is where I get weird.
I like to dance while I clean, and while dancing, I often snap my fingers and sing too. Usually some random something or other that comes to mind about how much I love my kids, because I’m kind of obsessed with them and want them to always know I love them. My mom always tried to show her love for me but I never got it, but I’m hoping that maybe my kids wont be as thick skulled as me. Either way, every day, rain or shine, snow or dreary clouds, I spend the better portion of the first two hours of my day dancing around with a broom and dustpan, singing my lungs out and snapping my fingers. I have an audience of two, and they are the most amazingly beautiful audience I could ever dream of.