There is no such thing as preventable stress when you have to wake seven children in the morning. Every single day they all go through the five stages of grief:

Denial- “Honey, wake up. It’s time for school.
18 and life You got it
18 and life you know
Your crime is time
and it’s 18 and life to go…”

[Slight movement at first then copius amounts of facial contortions] “Nnooo it’s not. It can’t be. I just went to sleep a minute ago.”

Anger- “You need to get up now. I woke you up five minutes ago and you’re not getting out of bed. I don’t want you to be late for school.”

“Why do even half to go to school anyways? It’s stupid!”

Bargaining- “Mom…please…just give me five more minutes and I promise to get up.”

“Okay buddy, I’ve let you sleep for a total of ten extra minutes now. GET UP!”

“Just let me stay home from school for today and I’ll clean out the fridge and clean both bathrooms.”

Depression- “You’re going to school. You have one minute to get your freckled butt out of bed.”

“Ugh.” [throws covers over head and turns away from me]

“38…37…36…”

Acceptance- “FINE! I’m getting up. Now leave me alone !”

I hate mornings.

Are mothers ever short on cute things her kids have said? I think not and so here’s the verbal equivalent of you having to sit through one of my vacation slide shows. Today’s showcase features Elly Joy, without whom this world would be a much more joyless, quiet place:

Recently Elly overheard me ask my father a question:

“Dad, do you remember what gun I used to shoot skeet when I was in gun safety class?”

“That was a while back, Jennine. I don’t remember.”

Elly, with a horrified expression, asked “Mom? Who was Skeet?”

Once, during the potty training days, Elly ran to the bathroom, pulled down her pants, struggled onto the toilet and…um…fluffed. She looked at me with wide eyes and said:

“Mom! My butt just sneezed!!!”

Half way through a long family walk:

“Mom, my feet are running out of gas but my mouth still has a full tank!”

During an extended illness of mine, Elly- discouraged with my lack of teaching, said:

“May I please call 1(800) EDUCATE so SOMEONE will teach me how to read??”

On the phone with someone whom I will not mention by name:

“No. She can’t talk right now. She just ran into the bathroom and went in the tub with her shoes on and told me to tell you she’s in the shower.”

Momma’s lil drama queen. One day this kid will have her name in lights. You heard it here first.