Tag Archives: morning routine

Wake up and Shake up!

Posted on by

I am not a morning person. Never have been; never will be. I’m much better at staying up late than I am at getting up with the lark, and have seriously considered having a teasmade installed by the bed to smooth the opening-of-the-eyes process.

All my life, I’ve somehow managed to avoid really early starts. I worked in media (9.30am start in London); freelanced for many years; and studied history at university (earliest lecture 11am, and believe me, even that felt early). I like my sleep, need my sleep and don’t function very well without it.

Cue: children.

I’ve pretty much blanked out the early, mind-bending horrors of baby-induced sleep deprivation, and to be fair to BB and LB, they stay in their beds most nights these days, but my problem is this: schools in Dubai start rudely early.

BB leaves on a school bus at 7.15am, and the doors slide shut on LB’s classroom at 7.50am. Seriously, just typing these times makes me yawn, and if I’m driving on to work, I get there half-an-hour before nearly everyone else.

The moves

The moves

This morning – still feeling like we were getting up for a red-eye flight despite it being the second week of term – it was the usual palava hustling LB out of the house. He climbs into the car like he’s got all. the. time. in the world and climbs out like he’s dismounting a horse.

Being Dubai (where useful things like school car parks aren’t always given due consideration), I have to drag him a fair distance, past the onion-shaped dome of a mosque, over a football pitch, up some stairs, and across the ‘big kid’ part of the school. That gives him opportunities aplenty to attempt to climb walls, meander, stop and smell the flowers, or sit down.

Herding kittens would be easier.

We made it, and I was just about to slope off to get a shot of caffeine when I realised: the parents were congregating on the tennis courts for ‘Wake up and Shake up’ – organised fitness to music at 8 in the morning, with the children. (Think: mums jumping around in Lycra and a generous smattering of dads standing rooted to the spot with their arms firmly crossed and both eyes on the smoking hot PE teacher.)

If I wasn’t fully awake before, I was after throwing a few shapes to Gangnam Style on a surprisingly Arctic-like* Dubai morning.

* That may be an exaggeration. But it honestly was one of the crispest mornings I’ve known in the UAE

Rant alert: A mother’s comeuppance

Posted on by

Last year, our morning routine was too good to be true: BB was picked up by bus and whisked off to school in a blink, while LB went to a nursery inside our compound.

Workwise, I could do a whole day in the office as a freelance, or bits and pieces at home – the sum of which were a drop in the ocean really in terms of the household budget, but at least made me feel like I was contributing in some small way.

But kids, they tend to start growing up, don’t they? And so it’s still something of a shock to me that this year I have two boys in two different schools (the hope is that in about 3 years’ time, the waiting list fairy will smile on us and BB will join his brother).

Why such an early school start? I’ve heard that in Australia, children with a 9.15am start go surfing first

“You have to leave by 7.20am to get to LB’s school,” my good friend warned, with a knowing, slightly worried look clouding her eyes (she knows I’m not great in the mornings).

And today, I found out why. Despite this school being nearby, to get there for the 7.50am start, you need to set out at least half an hour before to avoid the argy-bargying that goes on round the roundabaout, the tussle for parking spots and the queue snaking its way from the highway.

The drop-off completed on the late side, I headed back to our compound, thinking positive thoughts about going to the gym and getting groceries – all before 8.45am.

Thwarted. A power cut meant another hot and sticky, Bikram-style workout and at the store, it was as if Halloween had come early, with an assistant taking shoppers round with a torch, shining the beam down the dark aisles like a policeman scanning a dingy alleyway for baddies.

But my biggest bugbear this morning: LB is only at school for what feels like 20 minutes. His pick-up is earlier than nursery, just about giving mums enough time to do the shopping, come home, put the kettle on and go to the loo before heading back to the school to collect a child who will need entertaining all afternoon.

How being back on the school run, with less child-free time than before, feeling like a shadowy figure at the other school (BB’s back on the bus, bless him) and foraging around the grocery store with a flashlight is progress, I’m not sure.

I’m not going to get any work done this year, am I?

Rant over. Tomorrow I’ll beat the time thief. I’ll be out the door at 7.20am. Sharp.

Ships passing in the night

Posted on by

Sometimes, when you’re juggling two kids, half-a-job and one DH – who keeps odd hours (often going to work in the middle of the night) – getting the whole family on the same time zone can be quite a challenge.

Yesterday morning, DH actually left at a normal time, but as he’s gone all weekend (sigh) and I’ve been busy with work all week, I got that ‘ships-passing-in-the-night’ feeling again:

6.50am (alarm goes off): Carry 50 pounds of boy, too sleepy to walk himself, down the cold, marble staircase. Pad… pad… pad. Shiver

7am: Persuade boy to get dressed, amid complaints about the bitter cold (13°C!)

7.05am: DH comes down the stairs, in his uniform, his suitcase trailing behind him. Clop… clop… clop. Thud… Thud. Klunk

7.10am: The Little Boy appears half-way down the stairs, rubbing his eyes and whimpering. “Mummee, carry meee … Itsch cold!”

7.10-7.15am: Interact briefly with DH, while he pulls up the flight plan on the iPad and figures out how to save it

7.15am: Our nanny appears and deposits Boo-boo the bear on the sofa. Fortunately she remembers there’s a teddy bear’s picnic at nursery (thank God for the wife!)

7.20am: School bus pulls up outside and BB darts out the door in a flash. Beep-beep-beep. Ker-thunk, as the doors clap shut

7.20-7.30am: More snatched conversation with DH as he raids our ‘bus bank’, where we keep all our foreign notes

DH's pocket money: He's got most currencies covered! (pretty, don't you think? The red Australian note bang in the middle is my favourite)


7.35am: DH’s ‘work car’ arrives, the engine humming outside – yes, he’s picked up and chauffeured to the airport – jammy, no?

7.45am: LB is peeled off me and handed over to our nanny amid protests (“Mummee, Nooooooo! No go!” so I can get ready

8.30am: I dash out the door into the car (no driver for me) and realise I’ve forgotten my jewellery AND lipstick (Thursday, the last day of the week, always throws me as it’s mufti day and finding something trendy takes at least 20 minutes)

8.32am: Feel naked, not trendy, but too late to fix this so I reverse out the garage and set off on the rat-race to Media City

And so, that was it, we all went our separate ways – to nursery, school, work and Hong Kong. [Confesses:] In fact, that was a lengthy conversation compared to when DH leaves at 2 in the morning and all I can muster is a half-formed, muffled good-bye from under the duvet.