Tuesday, August 18, 2009

The morning rush

I like to daydream about the days when I could sleep in and think of them fondly. But if I do that too much it makes me bitter and that is good for no one.

My morning begins at 6am. I wake up, drag my butt to the shower, wash myself and all my parts, drag myself out of the shower, get dressed, hair brushed and cat fed, all the while still rubbing sleep from my eyes.

I make my way to the kitchen where I make Lulu's lunch (which really is just gathering items and making half of a peanut butter sandwich).

By now it's about 6:30ish and I go to wake the sleeping teenager. I knock on her door, open it a crack and say in my best motherly quiet voice, "Kylie, time to get up sweetie."

To which I get some grunting and generally morning noises. Followed by a "no, I wanna sleep."

I say, "Sorry honey, we have to leave in 20 minutes so you need to get up now."

More grumbling while I walk away.

I get Lulu dressed to which I get more "I'm so TIRED mommy. Please can I have 5 more minutes?"

A negotiation ensues during which time I get her dressed, all the while debating with her if she can have another 5 minutes when I'm done. She always does.

Now it's 6:45ish and we need to leave in 5 minutes. I go back to get Lulu up, Kylie is stomping around trying to avoid me because she's wearing make-up and she's not allowed to and then getting even more upset when I tell her to wash it off anyways. Shoes on for Lulu who now MUST see what surprises await her in her lunch bag.

The surprise this morning of the GREEN juice instead of the PURPLE juice was almost more than she could bear. What a sweetie.

We hustle to the car after Kylie has run back to her room twice because she refuses to bring her back pack home and must carry everything home with her which inevitably gets lost in the pit known as her room.

As we back out of the drive way 5 minutes to get to school she looks at me and says, "WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS MAKING ME LATE!"

As a side note about how devious my almost 5 year old is - after Kylie gets out of my car and slams the door doing it (and not so much as a thank you mom for the ride) from the back seat I suddenly hear, "All 5 year olds listen to whatever their Mommy's tell them. 5 year olds are good girls who do everything their Mommy's say."

She's sneaky that little one. Grateful at least when I drop her off, but sneaky.


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