The morning vortex 

This post is coming to you direct from my son’s Saturday morning sports practice. Hello! Keep your eyes on the ball and I promise you won’t get hurt.
We come here every Saturday. Every Saturday morning. Morning meaning 8.30am. 8.30am meaning we need to be up, showered, dressed, fed and out the door by 8.15am.
Not a hard ask really seeing as I manage to do that during the week when work and school beckons.
But Saturdays, at out house, we experience a strange phenomena: something I have started to call the vortex.
The vortex is powerful. It takes no prisoners. In the blink of an eye it turns 6.30am {when we are woken up to Mr O jumping on the bed} to 8.24am when we are yelling and rushing and scrambling and car door opening and seatbelt putting and speeding to the oval while listening to Queen’s Under Pressure blaring loudly from the speakers. On repeat.

While we may have had our eggs and we’ve got shoes on the right feet, we are also without coffee because despite our best efforts to leave “just after 8am this week” so we can caffeine up in the hour while Mr O practices his best Adam Gilchrist, we just don’t have time today. Again.

So, what exactly happens on Saturday mornings? Where does the vortex come from? Is it just our place it visits or does it say hello at yours too?

Judging by the looks on the many {frazzled} parents faces to my left and right, I would suggest we’re not alone in its company.

Hope your Saturday is off to a better start! I’m off to cheer on my little Gilchrist!



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