I’ll take my coffee standing up.

Like the Italians—and the seasoned or well-read tourists—in Italy, I’ve found it’s simply more economical.

This morning, after everyone had had breakfast and was dressed, I made myself a cup of decaf coffee in the Keurig—nothing fancy, although there was a bit of heavy cream left to use instead of half and half. Hoping full tummies would help the kids stay occupied for a while without me, I sat down on the couch, coffee in hand, and opened my breviary to the morning prayers for today. I made it a few sips of hot coffee and one psalm in before being interrupted.

Luke is working on his two year molars, and he had a bed transition a few days ago that he’s still getting used to (read: still behind on sleep from), so he was pretty Cranky Pants this morning. A small issue of sharing in the playroom escalated to crisis mode, and I had to put my prayer book down to intervene. Meanwhile, the presentiment that it’s time to take Luke to go potty crept up, so I made that excursion with him while I was up, too.

When I sat down again, my coffee was already a few degrees cooler, and before I could locate my place on the page again, Miryam came to ask me what flavor of smoothie I would like her to make me. And what kind of cookies. I played along verbally with her for a few minutes, my book open on my lap, but soon I had to insist:

“Miryam, can you please go make me my smoothie in your little kitchen? And Luke, can you go make me some tomato soup? I need to talk to God right now.”

“Well, you can answer him in your head.”

Yes, but…

“I can’t talk to two people at once, my dear. I just need about 10 minutes. Please go play.”

They went to the playroom for a minute or two. Then came back with more chatter and questions. And back and forth they went.

I reread stanzas to make sense of them. What would have taken 10 minutes, uninterrupted, took 20, and the last quarter cup of my real cream coffee was barely lukewarm by the time I got to it. To say the least, it wasn’t quite the peaceful moment I’d hoped for.

A few months ago, I noticed that I had a habit of drinking my coffee standing at the kitchen counter while the kids ate their breakfast. I thought to myself, “Why don’t I just sit down at the table with them to drink this off my feet?”

Well. Because…

“Mommy, I need more cereal.”

*Luke spills something.*

“Milk, please.”

*Luke needs to pee.*

*The dishwasher is full of clean dishes, and the same impulse that compels me to check the weather and pick out my socks for the day while brushing my teeth in the morning suggests that I might as well put dishes away while sipping, since I have one hand free.*

I’d figured out that I’m going to be up and down during breakfast, which is when I want coffee, so I might as well just be UP with coffee in hand. That way I can drink it hot.

Something I’ve recently been pondering, however, is which (if any) personal boundaries are appropriate to enforce with my children. They’re still so young, and so needy. When they wake up in the night, I feel it is unequivocally my responsibility to at least give them a kiss and tuck them back in—to acknowledge them and remind them I love them. But if they wake up at 6:45, I feel okay insisting that they go back to bed until 7:00 with no more than a kiss and a quick snuggle or re-tuck from me, even if I am already up with a light on in my own room.

Should I insist—and enforce—that they give me quiet and space to pray for 10 minutes when I ask for it? May I?

What about 10 minutes to sit down and not get up for their needs so I can drink my coffee hot the first time? Is that getting too egocentric? Somewhere on the internet I read that you’re “not supposed to reheat coffee.” I disagree…but I also love the idea of not needing to!

Etc., etc.

I don’t really have answers; I’ve only just begun thinking about my boundaries in relation to my kids. My gut tells me there are some boundaries that are for my benefit that are also for their long-term benefit, and there are some boundaries I’d like to set with them that are simply selfish on my part. I’m grappling with each, one at a time.

For now, I’ll probably lower my coffee drinking expectations again and go back to drinking it al bar like the Italians, not to save money, but to save a little time, potential disappointment, and the heat that’s in the cup.