a little different than those Grape Nuts commercials

Yesterday, a new business contact asked me, "When you wake up, what's the first thing you want to do?"

Of course you don't want to scare people with too many details. But what the hell, if you're going to do something you might as well do it all out.

What's the first thing I want to do in the morning? To be honest, I want to go back to sleep. I used to make a move on my wife, but now we're both too tired.  And the three year old in the bed makes it kind of weird.

So, what is the first thing I do?

I roll uphill.

It's what I have to do to motivate myself past the doubt and doldrums, the warm bed pulling me back in. So I move and I keep moving, because if I stop, I'm toast.

The motion begins with trying to get out of the house as quietly as possible. I take Paco to the park at 630, and if the boys hear me they'll want to go. That means that either Sarah, who just wants to lie there for a few more minutes, gets stuck with angry children, or I take a kid or two who want to bail on the cold as soon as we get there.

I walk around the park, sometimes jogging, sometimes groaning out some pushups. I keep to myself, with about 45 percent of me wanting to talk to the other guy who's there.  Otherwise it's Paco and me. Paco running ahead and then turning around to see what I'm doing. It's must be disappointing for a dog, or for any species.  Mostly I'm trying to enjoy the moment, but screwing up the leisure by thinking of all the stuff I need to do. And the stuff mounts. Everything I see is inspiration for another story. There's something about my mom I need to write. My dad; I need to get a eulogy done before he dies. Eulogies are always too late.

And I think of a comedy line that would be a great part of a sitcom I'll never get to. For a moment I think that if I just started writing it it would be done by now. And so would that book. I'm going to finish my Masters...comes a late-breaking distraction.

"Jesus, Jared" I say aloud. I cringe, wondering if there's anyone around. I make point to remind myself to stop scolding myself so loudly in public.

I get back to the house and I keep it positive. The kids help with that. When they wake up they're so cute and unaffected by all the bitterness in the world. The last thing I want to do is push them over the cliff before their time.

I make some breakfast. I turn on PBS Kids. We eat strawberries and miniature powdered donuts while we watch The Cat in the Hat or Curious George. Their jet engines are just warming up.

And then it spins into the final ten minutes of chaos. We're about to go but Quin announces he wants to take something to school that he shouldn't.  He's also hungry.  I say something about the breakfast he should have eaten.  Dumb.  Otto smells. We've got to change him. He doesn't want changed and writhes around on the changing table. Exorcism.

We get in the car and off to school.  I drop them off in their respective classrooms.  They take to it well but I'm sad we have to do this.  I have a brief Che Guevara moment in the hall.

Ten minutes later I'm in traffic, listening to NPR and drinking whole milk out of a sippie cup. It's good.  I've rolled to the top and now the day can begin.

Comments

[earthling]

I like it. I would have kept reading if it hadn't stopped there.