Saturdays are sacred in my house. It’s the one day that feels like it belongs entirely to us. No meetings, no rush to pack lunches, no frantic searches for school shoes left in the most absurd places. Instead, it’s about family, chaos, and a little bit of structure disguised as fun. My Saturday morning routine as Dad has evolved over the years. What started as a way to survive the weekend has turned into something I look forward to every week.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine. Let’s dive into what a typical Saturday morning looks like in my world.
The Alarm Clock That Doesn’t Snooze
Forget about sleeping in—my alarm clock has tiny feet, messy hair, and limitless energy. Like clockwork, my youngest bursts into our bedroom at dawn, pillow in hand, asking if it’s time for pancakes yet. Sometimes, it’s not even light outside. But there’s something about their excitement that makes it impossible to be annoyed. Well, almost.
I usually roll out of bed after a few minutes of bargaining for just “five more minutes,” which never works. My spouse is still buried under the covers, pretending not to hear the commotion. I know better than to expect backup at this hour.
The Pancake Factory
Saturday mornings always start in the kitchen. It’s become a tradition that I’m in charge of breakfast, and pancakes are the star of the show. Not just any pancakes—Dad’s special pancakes. They’re not perfect circles, often slightly burned on one side, but they’re made with love (and chocolate chips if you ask nicely).
The kids gather around the counter, still in their pajamas, eagerly watching the batter hit the pan. My oldest likes to “help,” which usually means spilling flour everywhere and sneaking chocolate chips when they think I’m not looking. My youngest is the designated taste-tester, which means I usually lose one pancake per batch.
There’s something about the ritual of making pancakes that sets the tone for the day. It’s messy, loud, and chaotic, but it’salso ours. By the time the plates hit the table, the kitchen looks like a war zone, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Coffee: The Real MVP
Once the kids are happily munching on their pancakes, I finally get a moment to make my coffee. This is non-negotiable. No coffee, no functioning Dad. I take my time with it, savoring the smell of freshly brewed beans and the sound of the first sip.
Coffee is my quiet moment in the eye of the storm. It’s the one thing that’s just for me before the day fully kicks into gear. The kids usually finish breakfast before I do, which gives me a few precious minutes to collect myself before the next phase of the morning begins.
The Great Cleanup
As much as I’d like to ignore the pancake aftermath, the kitchen doesn’t clean itself. The kids scatter to the living room or head back upstairs to get dressed (after much prompting), leaving me to deal with the carnage.
I’ve learned to embrace the mess as part of the process. There’s something oddly satisfying about wiping down counters and loading the dishwasher while the house hums with the sound of cartoons in the background. It’s like hitting the reset button before we dive into the rest of the day.
The Adventures Begin
By mid-morning, the house is a flurry of activity. This is the part of the routine that’s the least predictable. Some Saturdays, we head to the park for a few hours of running, climbing, and watching the kids invent elaborate games that only they understand. Other times, we tackle errands as a family, which is an adventure in itself.
One of my favorite Saturday traditions is the library run. The kids love browsing the shelves and picking out books for the week. It’s a small thing, but it feels like such a win when they’re genuinely excited about reading.
If the weather’s nice, we might head to a local trail for a family hike. The kids complain at first, but by the end, they’re racing each other to see who can climb the biggest rock or find the coolest stick. It’s exhausting but worth it.
Quiet Time (Sort Of)
After a busy morning, we try to carve out some downtime. For the kids, this usually means collapsing on the couch with their library books or playing with LEGO sets. For me, it’s catching up on whatever hobby or project has been collecting dust all week.
Quiet time is short-lived, but it’s enough to recharge before the afternoon chaos begins. Sometimes I’ll join the kids in their activities, building LEGO towers or reading books together. Other times, I just sit back and enjoy the rare silence.
Reflecting on the Routine
Looking back, the Saturday morning routine has become so much more than just a way to start the weekend. It’s a series of small moments that add up to something bigger—a sense of connection, tradition, and joy.
It’s far from perfect. There are tantrums, spilled syrup, and mornings where I just want to stay in bed. But those moments are part of the charm. They remind me that parenting isn’t about being perfect; it’s about showing up, making memories, and finding joy in the chaos of life.
So here’s to Saturday mornings and all the messy, beautiful moments they bring.
