Straight from My Mom

For anyone who knows me, my email address could not be more appropriate: constantmotioncamilla. Friends joke that I have a condition. People frequently ask me if I ever sleep. I do, but, perhaps, not as much as others.

I have six words for everyone: I. Get. It. From. My. Mom.

My mom is a bundle of energy. I can only hope to be as energetic as she is when I am 60!

My parents have the boys in Disneyland this week for Fall Break. I thought that I would get to sleep in, with no lunches to pack and no three-course breakfasts to cook. But, no. The first morning they were away, my phone rang at 6:20am. I bolted downstairs, recognizing the ring as my dad's cell phone, in a panic. What was wrong?!?

"Mommy..." I heard, "I'm eating breakfast." What? "I just finished eating. I had bagels and cream cheese, eggs, sausage, fruit, and cereal." Dylan, it's not even six thirty in the morning. "I know, Mom, but we have to eat now so that we can get on the shuttle and get in line to get in to Disneyland right when they open."

Because that sounds so familiar to them, the boys don't even blink tiwce. They don't complain about having to get up before the sun while they are on vacation. They just go with it.

So there you have it. My condition is genetic. I get it straight from my mom.