Typical Morning Freakout
So I spend an hour coaxing Baby E. back to sleep after he wakes up two hours too early. (Some baby-rearing schools of thought suggest that you let baby get up when he wants to get up. Others say that if possible, put baby back down and wake him up closer to his normal time. I agree with “others,” because I like my morning tea with a hearty spoonful of sanity.) I creep downstairs. I leave cupboard doors open, lest the closing jar wake the babe. I carefully handle all cutlery. I pour cereal and milk as quietly as possible. I crunch that Special K verrrrry softly. I boil water on a lower setting — because it’s quieter! I swear. I have not lost my mind. I scoop out tea and use a mug drying on the counter. I pour the hot water, stir in the leaves, pick up the tea tin to put it in the open cupboard….
AND BOBBLE IT AND DROP IT AND IN AN EFFORT TO GRAB AT IT, INSTEAD THRUST IT ACROSS THE ROOM WHERE IT CRASHES LIKE A TEA-FILLED DRUM KIT TO THE FLOOR.
WTF, body? WTF, reflexes? WTF, everything? WTF WTF WTF WTF
But baby is still asleep! The universe is sympathetic to me! So suck on that, whatever weird jerko demon that hangs around new parents’ kitchens waiting to bat loud metal tins out of their hands. You won’t make ME cry. Much.