So why am I still dragging my butt into work at 9 AM every stinking morning? I'm that annoying co-worker who is usually there first. I'm usually there by
Perhaps more specifically, why does it take me more than
This morning was a perfect example or not...
It all started yesterday...
I was stuck in traffic and got home late. I was tired and did not review her backpack. The Princess got to bed late. The Boo Man could not find his pants.
First we woke up late. Yes, very late almost 7 o'clock kinda late. So I slimmed the routine. The big boys got a quick "Eat Breakfast before you leave" instruction yelled from the bedroom instead of the tender moments in the morning where I sit with them over the hot breakfast of nutritious oatmeal I've slaved over.
Yeah, right -- my hat tip to nutrition is making sure their breakfast cereal doesn't have High Fructose Corn Syrup. But I do usually make eye contact when telling them to eat breakfast. As much eye contact as a teen aged boy is willing to make with his mother first thing in the morning (hint: not actually eye contact, more like eye to the top of their heads contact).
Healthy breakfast before boys get on bus. Check.
Then I turn my attention to the other son. Every mother of boys will understand this next one, and hopefully sympathize with me. My 9 year old is in the "It-doesn't-stink-and-there's-no-visible-dark-dirt-spots-surely-I-can-wear-it-one-more-time" phase of his life. I've tried organizing his clothes. I've put outfits together -- complete with socks and underwear hanging in his closet, I've really tried everything, and yet he comes downstairs morning after morning looking like refugee. The shirt is not just a tad too small -- it fit him when he was 4. The shorts are so dirty I am not sure what their natural color is. This morning his defense when I told him his shirt was dirty
Him: "But I got it out of the laundry, it's gotta be clean."
Me: "Then there's a big stain on the front and you can't wear it."
Him: "But it's brand new, it can't be stained."
Me: "I'm as shocked as you are."
I didn't even fight on the shorts, at least they were clean. I can only imagine what the teachers think of me. They must assume I am blind. (A myth I dispel at Back To School Night.) or negligent. (much more likely.) I always thought I would redeem myself with my daughter. She is so picky about her clothes and always looks so neat. I've recently realized it will probably create more disdain because they will believe I funneled all my time and care to her while the boys were left to raise themselves. --Ah but I digress.
The Boo Man dressed
Next on the list of to do items: The Princess. She is not a morning person. Hmmmmm, wonder where that comes from? I have to get her out of bed with Daddy, dressed in an outfit she's willing to wear, hair brushed, fed, lunch packed, backpack ready and out the door to school. Each one of those tasks takes approxiamately 20 minutes-- on a cooperative day.
This morning was not a cooperative day. Add to all the normal stuff, one VERY loose tooth that has been threatening to fall out all week and this morning it finally did. Yes, because I had so much time to show the proper amount of entusiasm for a lost tooth. But somewhere in the midst of crazy, we moms always find the time. Work be damned.
When I finally got around to reviewing her folder from school I found "Surprise" a note from the teacher. Apparently yesterday The Princess was moved to red. --SOOOOOOO not what I needed this morning.--- So then we add another 10 minute discussion about misbehaving at school
Finally it's time to eat breakfast and do her hair which I combine in a time saving effort. Then while she finishes I'm making lunch and sending Boo up to brush his teeth and hair.
Ahhhhhh, lunch made, backpack ready, the Princess dressed, hair brushed, teeth brushed, and we're walking out the door.
So I guess after all this I should really ask myself why I am able to get out before noon?