I wake up in the morning and the frenzy begins. Ok I’ll be honest the frenzy begins before I wake up. Raising 5 kids is like running a small school or daycare without the days off. I often wake up to the sounds of my youngest (21mnths) exclaiming at her highest possible vocal levels, requesting my immediate services including everything from breakfast to her favorite TV channel. She never seizes to amaze me with her abilities to express herself so accurately at such a young age. The initial feeling I get is OMG not this morning, IT’S THE WEEKEND, I NEED MORE SLEEP, but then she begins her carefully thought out, and methodical display of pure cuteness. She unloads a barrage of symphonic pleases and compliments them with her well practiced, ‘I’ve got you wrapped around my finger’ smile. My thought quickly changes to OMG, that is too cute to deny, then as if she could read my mind, she proudly smiles with a sense of achievement as if she is thinking; a hah I got her! After changing diapers, serving breakfast, and securing her favorite TV channel I think to myself, hmm maybe I can steal a few more minutes of sleep before the other wave begins. I quickly realize that this is merely just a dream, an unrealistic thought that vanishes quicker than the baby devours her breakfast, which is pretty quick. Her 4yr old brother soon banks the corner entering my room with a ‘tadda’ type of exhibition that can only make you want to laugh and cry at the same time. While it is adorable it is also a grim reminder that my long morning had only just begun. It is at this time a crucial decision is made. Do I wake my husband and assign him the task of guiding our youngest boy through his morning routine and go back to sleep or do I let him sleep in and tackle it myself. This decision is soon made for me because much to my delight I strategically placed my husband on the side of the bed that is closest the door, therefore he receives the good morning tackle that my son has practiced to perfection. Thankfully I have a wonderful husband who enjoys raising our kids with me and usually capitalizes on opportunities like this since his shifting schedule limits his mornings at home. The third wave consists of my 8yr old twin girls, who are twice as nice but also double the trouble. The combination of their arguing, and my husband settling their disputes are enough to wake my oldest boy who is almost 13 and super reliable. He makes me proud and his cooperative attitude makes it an easy job to raise him (so far). He tries to handle the frustration of mornings with the twins gracefully, which I’ll admit he probably knows them the best. At this tender age however, he often needs the help of my husband or me. This sometimes comes in the form of restraint, to keep them from choking each other. I pretend to sleep and enjoy listening to all of them as they try to be quiet. The ruckus soon spills over into the kitchen where I will later discover that their experiments with breakfast have left a tornado type impact. Their futile attempts to clean it are both frustrating and endearing. My day had officially begun, and I think to myself I get to do this again tomorrow ‘yeah’; I thank God for my wonderful family.