**Note: I wrote this post last Thursday. I had a goal of writing every day this month, whether I published it or not, and I got as far as Thursday. But this is a new week, and I'm back on the wagon, and I'm hoping that by writing every day it will get me into a better practice as a writer and a blogger. So hang in there. There may be a few posts like this one.
Just some thoughts on a random day.
Mornings are hard. Some days I think that even if I got up
at four a.m., we would still be running late. We are always running late.
Unless I do something smart like prep lunches the night before, or not shower.
Showering seems to derail everything.
This morning was a series of follies. Today is picture day,
and while I was sure to get the packet filled out, the envelope in the right
backpack, and a check in said envelope, I sure wasn’t prepared for how long it
would take to get a seven year old ready for pictures. And of course I had to
shower. I actually had a moment where I thought about letting it go one more
day, but my hair. My hair could lie no longer. My hair is always a dead
giveaway.
I thought I was smart about picture day. We picked out our
outfit, hair bow, shoes and jewelry last night. We talked about the kind of
hairstyle we wanted. Bear ears? No. Half up half down? Maybe. Headband? No. We
talked about getting up a little earlier so we would have more time. We talked
about being helpful and not losing our tempers and what not, as the morning
would be hectic. Then we went to bed. Correction, the kids went to bed and I
stayed up and wrote, talked to the Hubbs, and read articles on Huffington Post
that I hate because I should have written them myself. Am I the only writer who
does that?
Of course I overslept my alarm. Of course I had to shave my
legs because it had been almost a week and depending on the weather today, I
may have to wear capris. And also my arm pits. I think that the reason we don’t
have world peace and Pinterestly perfect homes is because we ladies are too
busy shaving our arm pits. And legs too if we are honest. My point is, Mommy
had already blew the schedule. But my daughter persevered and was dressed and
ready for hair on time. Hair took longer than expected, because she has a lot
of it. Add in Miss Mac who always wants just five more minutes to sleep and we
are looking at a ten to fifteen minute time delay. Then the necklace we
originally picked just wouldn’t do, and there were lunches and snacks to pack,
and OMG where is that sweater, that other hair bow. Then I hear Caitlin crying
because as she was trying to get something in her closet she punched herself in
the face. Ugh. I know what that's like and it’s a mixture of pissed because you
punched yourself in the face and ouch because it really effing hurts. And we
were so close to a tear free morning.
With tears dried and shoes on, we were just about to get our
back packs and the little one yells, I HAVE TO POOP!!! Which means that I’m going to have to drop
everything to wipe. One day, one day
very soon, everyone in this house will wipe their own ass. I can see that
light. I was sad to see bottles and pacifiers go. I was sad to see onesies go,
and even footed pajamas. But diapers and ass wiping?… Good bye, good riddance, it’s been real.
I can tell you that everyone was at school on time. With minutes to spare. Our hair was perfect for picture day. Butts were
wiped in record time. Everyone had the snack of their choice, drink of their
choice, back packs ready to go. Everyone went to school with a smile, maybe a
wobbly smile, but a smile.
I spent the remainder of my morning in Trader Joe’s, then
enjoyed my breakfast, which was hot and uninterrupted. Then I took to the
keyboard to write a little. It made me feel better and whole, and like not all
mornings are the follies we think they are.
