When my husband and I decided to get married, we (meaning I) managed to pull together the whole thing within five weeks. Tim had, by then, already transferred to Wisconsin to start a new job. In those five weeks, I lined up a dress, a caterer, booked the church and fellowship hall for the reception, planned the cake, attended a shower, picked out my Maid of Honor's dress, ordered invitations, planned the menu and continued to work at my job at The Limited. Tim was responsible for: showing up. Oh, and he had to get a suit bought and tailored, but I went along on that trip too.
Fast forward 17 1/2 years, and not much has changed. This morning, I woke up at 6:20 AM, plugged the coffee in, answered emails, fed the dog, drank a cup of coffee, and hit the shower by 6:50. I was dressed and made up by 7:20. From there, I pressed Nick's pants for school, made two lunches and stuck them in boxes, reminded the kids to get their hair combed, teeth brushed, and eat breakfast. I then (about 7:30) got the baby out of bed, dressed him (including hair and teeth), fed him and tube-fed him a bottle. I let the dog out, got the baby's coat on, and pushed all three boys into the minivan by 7:53 to pick up our carpool buddies.
Tim's morning went like this: At 7:10, get in the shower. Shave, get dressed, walk out the door by 7:30.
There are times when I really wish I had been born with a penis.
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