6:20 a.m. Day #19 of the new school year and I’m convinced that my children are conspiring an evil plot against me from ever being on time for work. Exhibit A. My children fast asleep. They aren’t early risers by nature, but on school days they make it known (and rather loudly) that they are not morning people.
Then there is the slowest eater in the world, my son. 20 minutes to 1/2 hour and he is still sitting there, eating or pretending to eat the minute I come by to nag him. For the love of being on time, EAT. And is anybody dressed yet? My eldest has disappeared into her bedroom so that is a good sign, but, no, there she sits – reading or playing or daydreaming. I am starting to turn into Maleficent’s evil twin sister. Dragon mommy is about to blow her lid.
We always lay out the clothes the night before. I’m no rookie. However, it doesn’t seem to matter. This year there seems to be new rules for clothes – no skirts on P.E. day and shorts under skirts and the list goes on and on . . . How could I not know that? Yet my daughter seems to have amnesia on what needs to be done each morning. “You didn’t tell me I need to brush my hair.” You need a personal invitation? We’ve only been doing this same routine for 183 days out of the year!
Eating boy still sitting and not eating. Now I’m breathing fire. Guess you will just get changed while you eat. The pajamas come off and clothes go on as if I am competing in an Olympic sport. A mad dash of teeth brushing and ponytail making, “GET YOUR SNEAKERS ON!” and I just quite possibly may have made it to the door when all of a sudden . . . the boy remembers he needs Cheetah. Find his cheetah, where is CHEETAH?? and I lose the 5 minute advantage. They seriously are doing this on purpose, right?
Then we hit the car. Spotify, please, they both beg. This amazing musical resource in our lives has just become the bane of my existence. Access to just about every song my lovies can think of but never possibly agree on. I am not a D.J., people! I need to drive. Did I mention that I’m going to be late?
