Yes, folks, that is the time I got up this morning. I got up to feed #3, who was truly ready for breakfast round one (a bottle). While I was up with him, we woke up #2, who got up and came to chat, waking #3 up more and refusing to go back to bed and wait for me (earned some discipline for that). When I finally got #3 back to bed and went to deal with #2 - who told me he was hungry - so I went and got him a glass of water and the first #2-approved snack I came upon (a slice of homemade whole wheat bread). He refused to eat it, so I put it on his desk and left him in bed. Don't bite the hand that feeds you - especially not at 5:15am. As I left the room, #2 threw a high decibel screaming fit - and work #3 up again. By the time I finally made it back to my bed, it was 6:10 - 20 minutes before I needed to be up for the day.
I cried. I was so tired and so mad at #2. And there was my sweet husband, snoring away. I was mad at him, too - and yet I knew he had just gotten in bed when I got up to pee at 1:30.
It's now 9:15pm, and I'm done with Tuesday (It did get better - we went to Bible study and the pizza place, come home and did schoolwork, and then #2 went to Mimi's and #3 and I did errands and then went to pick #2. it wasn't a horrible day, but that was quite a icky morning. I'm hoping to never repeat that particular one.