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This morning started too early. Every morning does, though, doesn’t it?

For the last few nights/mornings Olivia has slept really well, waking up only after I’ve gone into the bathroom and turned on the light to start the day.

This morning, however, she woke up about fifteen minutes before my alarm went off. She wanted to lay with me but she wanted her “nasty pull-up” off first. (Her words, not mine.)

So she snuggled in but she wasn’t interested in going back to sleep. She wanted to chat.

I listened as I dozed and finally, when the alarm did go off, O was up and running. She wanted to wear this dress and those socks and don’t forget her new ballet shoes that Gram picked up for her at a garage sale yesterday. And could she please go down and watch hew new ballet movie before breakfast.

Ugh, yes, go. Ask Daddy to put in the movie and start it.

Before O was out the door and down the stairs, Alyssa was up, glowering at us all. (Alas, poor dear is so very much like her mother.) She went about getting dressed on her own with little conversation. Did I mention she’s a lot like me?

The morning progressed and we were rounding up our routine, teeth were brushed, hair was dried, etc. And then I went up to comb my wet hair. Three seconds after I started, Alyssa joined me in the bathroom to brush her own hair. She’d had to bring the brush with her as it’s usually used in the bathroom downstairs.

And I was graceless and bitchy. I didn’t actually say anything. But I sighed and combed and thought mean thought about how I couldn’t even have five damned minutes alone to comb my stupid hair. Like I said, graceless and bitchy.

Five seconds after Alyssa left to go back downstairs, Olivia arrived to make sure I wasn’t lonely as I continued to stew and comb my hair.

Finally, we all emerged outside to wait the last five minutes before I had to leave. It was a lovely spring morning, a hint of the coming humidity in the air.

At one point, Tom, Alyssa and Olivia were talking to me, each trying to be heard over the other two.

I thought to myself that it’s hard to be everyone’s favorite.

And yet…that’s just it. I am. I’m the one they all want to be with. I’m the one they all wait for anxiously to get home and I’m the one they all want to respond to whatever they’re saying or doing with a kind smile or a nice comment.

There are moments when I do manage that but I’m ashamed to admit that there are more moments when I wish for five minutes of alone time, five minutes to go down to the basement and throw the wet clothes into the dryer.

But this morning as I was driving to work, I had an epiphany. It hit me hard that rather than lamenting my lack of time alone, I should be rejoicing in the fact that my three favorite people return my love. That they each want to be with me. That I bring them comfort, my mere presence gives them joy.

I need to stop saying I love them and start showing it. I need to stop being such a bitch and sighing when one of the girls arrives at the bathroom door and instead, I need to smile at them and show them how happy I am to see them, even if I just saw them ten seconds ago.

I know today is May 3rd but I’m making a resolution anyway. I resolve to be happy when any member of my family seeks me out. I resolve to listen more attentively to my husband when he’s talking to me and to be more present with my children when they’re telling me about their day or their dreams or their fears.

I resolve to stop selfishly hoarding my quiet time and start sharing it with the people I love most in the world. It’s the very least I can do for them.

Actions speak so much more loudly than words. And I resolve that my actions will be loving, my words will be softer and kinder.

I will stop being such a bitch and start being a better wife and mother.