**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.