So after reading this post by my fave Mom blogger, Michelle Lewsen, I’ve been inspired to remark upon my day.
I’ve been trying to adjust my son’s morning routines (as he is not dealing with Daylight Savings very well), with the least amount of meltdowns–anyone who says children adjust instantly to it clearly have changelings for children, because no child I know of has ever adjusted to it smoothly…let alone adult. I need a nap.
So where was I? Oh yeah, morning routine.
6:00 Alarm: (Mozart’s Serenade and Minion from Despicable Me 2 going, “Beedo!” simultaneously) is an effective wake-up. Normally.
6:05 Mom Alarm: Wakey wakey eggs and bakey!
6:10 Mom Alarm: (in the voice of that Poriferous Menace Spongebob with the actual tune playing in the background)
“Get ready, get ready to go to school!”
Normally it works, but this morning? Not a chance.
6:15 Mom Alarm-6:30: I finally get him awake and out of bed(to which I have learned he’s spilled his electrolytic drink on, and manage to get him calmed down without a major meltdown…for now.), and into a silent for far too long bathroom…
This morning, he showed me a gapped smile–he wiggled a loose tooth out(instead of getting ready for school, not knowing my plans for him for breakfast…yeah, fresh extractions and crisp bacon do not go together.).
He then proceeded to try to give me insulin overload with his sugar-shock cute looks coupled with apologies. Those are my Kryptonite.
I’m still struggling to get him into the bath(he refuses to take showers before bed, having heard my Mother once discuss having a new face for the mornings–meaning wash your face every morning, which he interpreted for his entire body, and wakes up most mornings hours before school and gets his bath done without a prompt, but this morning…*silent screams and prayers to God or whoever will listen*).
He’s singing at the top of his adorable lungs about a now missing tooth and the faery that will come and trade it for a prize, and oh dear, I have just resorted to threatening to put his adorable self into a cold shower clothes and all before he has his bath. He takes his shower, then starts the bath.
*Splish, splash*. I added a bit of bubbles for the extra fun factor, because I’m nice, I’ve obviously just lost my mind.
7:30 Alarm: “It’s seven thirty! Time to get out!”
“But I’m having fun and the bubbles aren’t gone!”
“Okay okay I’ll do it now Mommy!”
7:45: *sounds of giggles from my bedroom that sound suspiciously familiar, and I find he is only part-way dressed and jumping on my just made bed(which also seems to have electrolytic drink on it…sigh).*
We made pancakes Sunday after he saw this clip of the Muppet Show…
I froze what wasn’t eaten(clearly underestimating his ability to inhale pancakes, and mistakenly thinking that making four dozen were going to last).
He’s managed to eat a dozen a day, and only half a dozen yesterday(because he wanted a couple of pierogi’s to go with).
Today he inhales(no seriously, where did they go, I just plated them!) them, and asks me for more, then tries to sugar shock me into cooking more. I told him there are nor more, and there is no time.
8:00 Mom Alarm: “What time is it Mr. Fox{inside joke between me and my son}”
“Time for more pancakes!”
“No.”
“Time for some french toast?”
“Try again.”
“It is now Eight oh two…um, time to get my shoes on?”
“DING DING DING!”
8:04: “Can you make pancakes for Dinner? I want {insert perfect imitation of Swedish Chef here} pancakes. For dinner. Because they are yummy and you make the best pancakes ever, and I want those and some wax beans for my vegetable.”
“We will see.”
“Thank you Mommy! YOU are my favourite Mommy in the whole world!”
“…”
8:14: Coat, hat, gloves, scarf, backpack please. This is done fast and without complaints. I hear the choir sing Hallelujah!
8:15: “Mom! I forgot! Today is “Crazy Hair day” at school! Can you make my hair look like Thing 1&2?”
{record needle screech}
“But you have eight minutes before the bus gets here.”
{insert ultra cute face here with words of how awesome I am, and how much I am loved, and how he remembered me showing him how fast I could make a new hairstyle on my long mess of hair}
“Hurry up and get your coat, hat and scarf off.”
{insert Yakety Sax here, followed by a frantic scramble for my fancy hairdryer and my trusty can of Tigi Bed Head Hard Hold hair spray, and sounds of hairdryer and fumes of hairspray floating in the breeze}
8:22: Walking outside to a wet heavy snowfall.
Perfect. Take a bow Murphy, you jerk.
8:23: My son is on the bus as I wish him a great day.
8:24: Stripping my bed, his bed, and all the blankets, and doing the laundry(which was only done Sunday between pancakes and fun with my son day).
9:00-9:30: Phone calls from people I don’t know insisting that so-and-so lives here and needs to get on the phone.
Moron tells me I need “to put so-and-so on the phone like, now, girl!” Ohnoyoudidn’t.
*insert sounds of me swearing enough to make a US Marine Corps Drill Instructor blush from embarrassment because my son is not here to hear me*
9:31: Moron finally gives up.
10:00: Second load of laundry
11:00: I try to get a bit of free time in and catch up on blogs and comics that do not get fed into my inbox.
11:01: {insert sound of phone ringing and me trying to ignore it. He’s baaaaack!} I get fed up and call my phone company on conference, and they inform him I’ve had this number longer than he’s been alive, and his number is being marked as harassing, and to call me at this number again will result in another call being made on my behalf. {insert sound of him swearing, and of them telling me to have a nice day, and they’d take care of it}
11:22: I decide to mute my ringers and take a nap(every Mom deserves a few minutes nap, right?). I get my lavender mask and place warm tea compresses on my eyes hoping for about 30 minutes.
11:25: Knock on door from someone I don’t know, wanting me to have new siding and windows done. *stares at the not quite two year old siding and windows and looks back at this guy* Mind you, it’s still lightly snowing/raining.
“Is this a bad time?”
“Um, excuse me, but do you not see the new windows and siding?”
“Looks old to me.”
“We also do~”
“No. Go away, take me off your list, as I see you are the owner of the company. I am NOT interested, and will not be interested.”
I close the door and attempt to resume my nap.
12:00: *Knocking on the door*
I ignore it(after looking through the peephole, seeing a hand over it, then looking out a side window to see another annoying salesperson at my door, and contemplating justifiable homicide debating on a second round of stress-relieving swearing) and decide that I am just gonna let them knock for however long they want.
12:20: *sounds of knocking continue while I hide in my book nook with headphones on and try to read*
1:00: Remember I have laundry that needs to be dried and hears knocking and wonders if I should yell at the idiot, only to see a new idiot to ignore…
(In case anyone is wondering, if they have a vacuum cleaner, books, literature, or a HEAVY backpack, they are salemen, in which case I can ignore them)
1:30: Makes one bed, and realises I have not turned on the dryer. Begins to swear(since I do not have to pay the pig due to no little ears informing me I said a bad word)…quite creatively.
2:30 alarm: Reminder my bundle of joy gets back in one hour, so I start pancakes. I will make enough pancakes for my miniature eating machine. Scratch that. I can’t find my jar of Saigon Cinnamon, so I have to hunt for it. This takes me 20 minutes. I try to make the batter once again, then realise I’m out of milk, and goto grab the powdered milk to add to the dry so I can add water. I knock a can of soup on my foot. {Insert expletives plus the visual of me hopping around like a drunken one-legged frog} I get it, wash my hands, and find that it’s caked into a lump, so I chisel out a piece and run it through my mini blender so I can put it into the dry mix.
3:20 Alarm: Get out the door for the bus reminder.
3:23: My bundle of joy returns and I play the “No you may not play {insert whatever plaything he wants here}. It’s homework time, and I’m going to make the gingerbread pancakes I promised.”
*Mr. cute and sneaky keeps grabbing pancakes instead of doing homework. Has a sulk because he burnt his mouth. Twice.
4:43: Normally it takes him five minutes to get his homework done, and another 22 for his reading. Today was not one of those days.
Just imagine trying all sorts of tricks and bribes and near-threats to get a child to pay attention long enough to write two sentences down, and having them not work(because he got the math done first). Oh, and the pancakes are cold, and he’s having a sulk about it.
5:00: Dinner. Despite having consumed about 15 mini pancakes between homework, he managed to inhale another eight.
6:00: I normally allow him an hour of time to play–only because it’s still cold outside and gets dark early(two if he’s watching a movie inside). Today it’s half that for taking too long…aand he’s having another sulk.
6:30: He reminds me that tomorrow is decade day, and his button up is not fitting right, and since I promised him that I’d get him a new one if he outgrew it… {insert silent sobs and swearing here} so off to the store we go.
8:00: A stalling we will go, right in the store we are, hi-ho we need to go, a stalling we will go… Just now leaving store after being reminded in the store of all the things on my shopping list that we had to get now…
8:15: Get ready for bed. Normally he does this without prompting, but this last couple of months he’s been forgetting or is too distracted to remember.
8:22: Bedtime. I read a story to him.
8:45: I imagine reading him this book, when in fact I am reading him more Junie B. Jones, because he’s stalling hardcore.
There’s more stalling and shenanigans today, but this is not a typical day, so as long as he goes. to. sleep. I’ll manage.
Oh no. A typical day has him being near perfect with his homework and the getting ready for bed, and only having meltdowns because he’s forgotten his homework folder, or gym shoes, or he stalls because he wants to talk to Auntie and cousin in California(who naturally are two hours earlier than us, so he just HAS to talk to them after bedtime because it’s only seven in California, while being nine here).
Seriously though, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
The trials and tribulations of a Mom 