Morning has broken…

God, how I hate mornings.
As you may have noticed, I am not a morning person. Never was. My biological clock is not coordinated with the Western culture of working and studying in the hours just after the sun rises. I love sunrises though, but I think they get better if you observe their majesty and then go back to sleep. My best hours have always been between 12 to 2 am, the graveyard shift. Provided of course I can spend the day after sleeping till noon.
My current status as a Working Mom leaves me with a hectic schedule and exhausting mornings, (not to mention waking at least twice every night because of my lovely unsleeping son). My morning begins usually between 6:30 to 6:45. My husband (always an early bird) wakes the girls more or less at the same time. My son (like my husband) usually rises before the sun and so they have an hour or so of male bonding consisting of watching kids programs on the BBC. My middle daughter is very much like me. She is NOT a morning person and usually spends the time between she wakes up till she finishes breakfast in a horrible grumpy mood.
While the kids have their breakfast, I'm trying to jump start my brain with a strong cup of coffee my saint of a husband makes in our very Yuppie but very necessary espresso maker.

Then there is the saga of getting 3 kids dressed, combed, teeth brushed and school bags ready in a very short period of time. My oldest is not a problem, she's a responsible, stylish and quite a messy young lady that knows how to handle her time. My middle child is disastrous in the mornings. She gets absent minded and forgets that she needs to change her pajamas, wear her glasses – she'd rather play hide and seek with her younger brother. So most of the morning I chase the little one in order to change his diaper and clothes while yelling at the middle one: "get dressed", "leave the Barbies", "for the 10th time, go brush your teeth!" Not to mention the fact that dressing my son is like trying to get an octopus to wear pants. By the time the 3 of them are ready and out of the house, usually with my husband driving the lot of them, my nerves are already stretched. Then you get to clear their breakfast table- the floor always has a coat of chocolate milk to it. I'm leaving the house at around 8am after clearing the table, mopping the floor and putting the washer/drier to work. If my husband wasn’t a morning person, I would've collapsed ages ago. Probably would've settled for one child.
Driving to work is done in a when I look and feel like a zombie searching for a brain to eat. Any driver that has the bad luck to cross my path is met with a stream of curses you don't hear from gangsta rappers. But I never have the energy to really shout them, I just mutter to myself and sigh a lot. If there are traffic jams I can become homicidal, good thing I don't carry weapons. When I finally get to the lab, I first have to sit and gaze at the computer with the second cup of coffee until it's almost 10am and only then I can pretend that I'm semi useful. The guys at the lab are already familiar with my sunny cheerful morning personality and tend to not engage in conversation.
They greet me almost every morning with: "Oh, you look tired…" no way.
My wish is to have a job I can perform from 11 to 4 and then go home and sleep every morning till at least 9:30 (with the short break of dressing the kids and scream at the top of my lungs).
Hope you all have a great morning!