One of those mornings.

It's Thursday and the forecast is calling for sunny skies, a light breeze and the warmest day of the year so far. Outlook is totally favorable.

Then my kid wakes up. Cue the morning from hell.

It started as normally as is possibly could have, we're big on routine round these parts.

Silas wakes me up, but its about an hour later than he usually does and there's an undeniable vibe of negativity radiating from him. He's sick. His head is burning up and he is pissed about it. I try to remain happy for him, kiss his forehead, dose him with ibuprofen, and fill his cup with chocolate milk and boom everything is wrong. It's the wrong cup, the milk is the wrong color and I'm taking too long to brush my teeth.

Go get Wren! He demands..we go together and she's her usually peppy self, asking for milk and saying "poop" because she knows that diaper changes come before milk.

Silas is yelling and whining non-stop at this point because his life is really hard. He won't eat. and the rule at our house is the tv doesn't come on until after breakfast. after 20 more minutes of the refusal and the bargaining I cave, TV comes on.

But its wrong too. Wren is in the way. The sun is too bright and his cup is empty.

Mommy needs a minute and a lot of coffee.

It's been one of those mornings.

Coffee is brewed. chug first cup. too hot. burn mouth. fuck

poor new cup, lose it.

Find it. It's cold. Microwave it.

Forget about it. Find it. microwave again.

Finish second cup of coffee.

We're going outside!

The afternoon outlook is now favorable too.