Last night was no exception. I laid awake reading my book late into the night hoping that would make me drowsy enough to fall asleep. I gave up after about 2 hours and forced myself to just lie there with my eyes closed and hope for the best. The next thing I knew I heard a door slamming. I jerked awake certain that we were being robbed, just to realize that it was 7:30 in the morning. My very loud alarm is set for 6 am. My children's alarms are set for 6 am. They are the nosiest children getting ready in the morning. They argue, scream, and sometimes even throw things. I slept through every single bit of it. The door I heard was them leaving for the bus. I jumped up, ran down stairs and yanked the door open so I could yell to them that I loved them and to have a good day all while feeling like the crappiest mother on earth and embarrassing them in front of their friends in my t-shirt and underwear (yeah, I'm so classy). I was devastated. Today, I am so exhausted I can't even think straight. Hopefully things are going to get back to normal soon. In the meantime, I am grateful that my husband and I had the foresight to drill into our kids the importance of being able to do things for themselves.