I like to think I’m a fairly competent and content person. I’m good at my job, I have a solid circle of friends and I adore my little family which comprises of my husband, myself and two boys aged five and a half, and seven years old.

Yet there is one area of my life that I can’t get right despite my best efforts – the morning routine.

Getting my kids out the door every AM has the power to transform me from #blessedmum into a mismatched MAFS contestant at the tail end of a booze-fuelled dinner party – loud, frazzled and prone to expletives.

As my stress levels skyrocket with every shift of the clock hand, the kids activate selective hearing mode and carry on their merry business without a care in the world. Being on time for Prep/Kindergarten and Grade 1? Totally overrated!

Here’s a rundown of Operation School Gate – my daily mission to get my kids to school on time.

6.45am The calm before the storm
I return from a morning gym session resembling a glistening beetroot. I pack the kids’ lunchboxes while my husband gets their breakfast ready.

7.00am Waking the dead
The kids continue to enjoy their weekday coma despite waking up at 6am every Saturday and Sunday since forever. I go into their room, give them a cuddle and gently remind them that it’s a school day – yay! When that fails to rouse them, I start singing, “You gotta get up, you gotta get up, you gotta get up in the moooooooorning!” They grunt and roll over.

7.15am The most important laborious meal of the day
My five-year-old emerges at the bottom of the stairs with a frown that could dethrone Grumpy Cat. He drags his feet to the breakfast counter while muttering semi-audible complaints about the fact that he asked for a croissant and has been served up…a croissant. My seven-year-old then emerges and consumes his breakfast with the urgency of a sloth.

7.30am Backpacks at the ready
Lunchboxes, water bottles, reading satchels and hats are packed and the backpacks are placed at the front door in preparation for the inevitable grab and dash. But wait, the seven-year-old has misplaced his glasses…again…resulting in a 10-minute search until they are eventually found in the pantry, because obviously.

7.45am Sunscreen slathering
I scrape the half-eaten breakfast into the bin while my husband grits his teeth and engages in the dreaded sunscreen slathering. This is his parting gift before leaving me to battle the most challenging morning task alone. Yes, that’s right, it’s time for the kids to….(insert ominous music)…get dressed.

8am Bare bum buster
The kids look at their school uniform laid out in the living room as though it’s a museum display. I tell them I’m going upstairs to get ready for work and when I come back down I expect them to be fully dressed. And by fully dressed I mean not a bare bum in sight.

8.15am Imperfectly timed playtime
I hear the dreaded sound of a scooter being ridden up and down the side path of the house. Wrapped in a towel, I race downstairs. The seven-year-old has decided to finally build the triple-decker LEGO bus he got for Christmas two years ago while wearing one sock and a pair of undies…on his head. The five-year-old has reemerged from his scooting adventures and is putting his school shoes on the dog while laughing hysterically.

It’s time for serious mum voice, “Get dressed or I’m taking you to school in the nude!” I say to stifled giggles.

8.30am The search for rogue shoes and socks
I’m dressed, which is more than I can say for my kids. In 15 minutes they have managed to get their shorts and t-shirts on but the socks have disappeared and the shoes I laid out have seemingly been used as balls in a game of indoor cricket. “Get your shoes and socks on!” I screech 28 times while the dog runs for cover and the neighbours decide to sell up.

8.40am Toothbrushing and t-shirt stains
The shoes and socks have been located and attached to human feet. The kids proceed to brush their teeth like they are on a wellness retreat with an optional meditation sesh at 10am. The five-year-old then wipes his toothpaste covered hands all over his t-shirt because the hand towel is 10 centimetres away which requires way too much effort.

8.45am Turd alert.
“Get in the car!” I yell while my five-year-old tries to update me on yesterday’s episode of SpongeBob and my seven-year-old announces that he needs a number two.

8.50am Let’s go!!
One turd, two stories and a surge of Cortisol later, we are on our way.

8.55am The bell!!!
I hear the first bell ring as we search desperately for a carpark.

9.00am AAAAAAAAH!!! AWWWWW…
The sprint for the gate commences. The kids give me a big kiss and cuddle and head to their classrooms. I smile because they are so damn cute and despite the insanity of the morning, I’m going to miss their squishy little faces all day.

9.10am Exhale
I head to the local café and order a double shot. I breathe a sigh of relief…until tomorrow.

What does your morning look like? Let us know below.

Feature image: Supplied.