Burnt Toast
- C. Storm
- Feb 19, 2018
- 3 min read
It’s past noon as I sit here eating my cold scrambled eggs, drinking my cold coffee, and trying to butter my cold burnt toast. Which basically means I am just smashing toast with a solid slice of butter. It’s delicious.
Even though I am just having breakfast, the day has been in full swing since 6:30am. My husband is out the door and at work. My kids are all bathed and dressed for the day with their hair nice and styled. Breakfast was made and devoured by all three little munchkins hours ago. Maddie has already done tummy time, practiced rolling from her stomach to her back, and practiced her fine motor skills at her activity table. My sons have spent time looking at books, building with Legos, and deconstructing the playroom (their favorite activity). My daughter has had her lunch, some smashed carrots (she’s just starting solid foods!) and a bottle. And I just set my two sons up at the table with their lunch foods of choice, peanut butter on crackers, steamed broccoli, and fish sticks.
I remember it was not very long ago, when I only had one baby, that I would wake up early every morning and make eggs Benedict on beds of crab meat and spinach for my husband and myself. I’d have a breakfast sandwich cooked and ready for my son when he woke up. I would brew fresh coffee and bring breakfast up to our bed before my husband got up to go to work. And we'd have an hour to snuggle and catch up before the day got started.
Flash forward 3 years and I sit here, at 12:25pm, eating cold burnt toast, in my pajamas, with no bra on yet. I just spilled cold coffee all over my white shirt as I write this post. I definitely haven’t brushed my teeth and my hair is in a permanent pony tail. And I finally have about two minutes to sit down and eat the breakfast I set out for myself hours ago. I am not sure how the time in the day disappears so quickly, but it feels like I just woke up to start the day and it is already halfway gone.
This isn't a post to complain about my lack of a delicious breakfast today. There will be a day not too long from now when I will be able to make eggs Benedict on the daily again, sit down and read the paper with a piping hot cup of coffee, and snuggle in bed next to my husband before he goes to work. My children will be older, able to dress themselves, and make their own breakfast. They’ll be busy going out and building their own lives and not concerned with having me pick out their outfits and tie their shoes. And I am sure the peace will be nice sometimes. But as of now, I am not looking forward to it. I might not get to sit down for a hot meal at the table today but I've already had 6 quality hours with my kids that I can never replace.
So for now, I'll keep these hectic mornings and days. I'll learn to love my cold burnt butter smashed toast. I'll make eggs Benedict on the rare occasion I have extra time. And, l'll savor every single one of these moments with my children as my regular routine instead.
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