Sometimes I don't know how we survive most mornings. My oldest, Soren, never wants to go to school anymore. Today he tried to skip out because he was having a bad hair and outfit day. Earlier in the morning, my husband and I had to hold him doown so we could free the caked on dirt from under his arm pits. It's been piling up for months. After further inspection, we found the same film in the back of his ears. We have showed him countless times how to wash but boys are just gross.
Our middle child is Sloane. Mama Mia - she has to "dress up" for preschool everyday. Rarely, will she wear what I pick out for her. There have been several mornings where we refused to take her to school unless she took her outfit off. You should see what this child puts together. I'm all for her being an individual but some of these outfits make no sense! She can NEVER find her shoes or her backpack. She refuses to wear socks 1/2 the time. I was teasing her a few weeks ago about her hair starting to look like a mullet. She claims that she loves her mullet and asks everyone in the family every morning if her hair looks like a mullet! She will sit in the bathroom for long periods of time brushing her beautiful curly hair straight to make it look like her mullet.
Then there is the baby, Freya. Bless her. As long as she is feed, all is well with the world. She just sits in her circle of neglect(exersaucer) and plays with all the toys as madness goes on around her.
I myself am a hot mess most of the time. I struggle daily to keep the house in order and to make sure everyone gets to where they need to be. I am constantly in the basement on most mornings looking for clean clothes that haven't made it upstairs and into the drawers. This particular morning of craziness, I was bent over and looking for socks in the dryer. I had this overwhelming urge to fart. I evaluated the feeling as strictly being a dry one and ok'd the fart for send off. My evaluation failed. For the first time in my life, I shit myself! YES PEOPLE, I SAID IT.
It happens, especially after having 3 children and no time to go to the bathroom in the morning. I got myself together and walked lopsided up the stairs into the bathroom. Of course, everyone noticed.
"Mommy, Why are you walking funny?"
"Daddy- Why is Mommy walking funny?"
"Mommy - did you hurt yourself?"
I chuckled. "Kinda..." I laughed about it; What else could you do?
My husband, Ron, is a saint at times. He races around most mornings dealing with his own issues of not being organized. The poor man never has socks that match. He is in the mix every morning holding babies, lacing up shoes and finding missing jackets and backpacks. Often he volunteers to take both children to school. So at 8:45, kisses are exchanged and they all pile into Ron's jeep. Peace and quiet at last. I look at Baby Freya and she always smiles. I take her into bed and I hug and snuggle her until she falls asleep for her morning nap. I sit in the quiet and reflect on how wonderful my life is.
I wouldn't change a thing.
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