I am not a morning person. Never have been. I will be the first to admit that early AM punctuality presents a great challenge to me. Now, take into account that I have two little babies, one of whom is also not a morning person, and it is a wonder that we ever make it anywhere before noon. But even though it is regularly difficult to get our show on the road to make it to the sitters then to work by 7, this morning was ridiculous. I have to write about it. And yes, it's true; I couldn't make this stuff up.
The alarm goes off at 4:45 AM. (It used to go off at 4:30, but as I rarely got out of bed until 5 anyway, I bumped it up.) It wakes me and Wesley (who has somehow ended up in my bed, although he is only 6 months old, so he doesn't walk, and Jerry was at work all night, and I don't remember moving him although I am certain he went to sleep in his crib on the other side of the house). Wesley's eyelids are linked somehow to his stomach--he thinks if he's awake, he should be eating, so I feed him. And feed him. And feed him. This takes almost 30 minutes, and now I'm going to be late.What happened next is somewhat of a blur. I know that I am washed and dressed, my lunch and bags were packed and put in the car, and that during this time, Grace was still asleep (How'd SHE get in my bed, too?). I had made coffee and laid out the kids' clothes. I dressed Wesley. He was exceptionally squirmy, so it took a little longer than normal. I put him on the floor and then went to get more toys to occupy him. I was in the process of distracting him with said toys when I noticed a smell. I picked him up and noticed a warm sort of ooze on my arm. Yep. We were both covered in poo. Nice. Two changes of clothes (mine and his) and he was happily playing on the floor.
Time to wake the Gracezilla. She was in a pretty good mood for the morning.
Me: Rise and shine.
Grace: OH! Good morning, Mommy. Good morning, Hesley. Peek-a-boo, Hesley! Peek-a-boo!
Me:OK, time to get dressed to go see Grandma.
Grace: NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! (wagging finger)
Me: Want to watch TV?
Grace: Yes. (Pronounced YYYYYesh.)
I plopped her in front of the TV and began to change her diaper.Grace: NO! No no no no no! NO DIAPER! Dora Panties! Gracie JUICE! Gracie SAMMICH! EAT! EAT! EAT! (signing "eat" for effect)
At that point, I made an executive decision. We would be late. I was not going to stress about it any more. The kids were getting grumpy because I was trying to hurry them and I was getting grumpy because they wouldn't be hurried, so I just let it go. The mood IMMEDIATELY lightened.
Somehow I managed to dress the child and convince her that we would eat in the car. She refused shoes, shouting for her dinosaur slippers. FINE. Once in her dinosaur slippers, she screamed because Wesley was following them around, fascinated, and he's really, pretty fast for a crawler.
Finally we are ready to go. My usual goal is to get out of the house between 5:30 and 5:45. It was now a FULL HOUR LATER. Thank goodness for first period planning.
We made it out to the car. Everyone was in their seats and buckled up. I started the ignition and the low fuel light came on. Seriously.
OK, deep breaths.
Grace: GRACIE WANTS SAMMICH!
I handed her the sausage, egg, and cheese on whole wheat muffin I defrosted and cut into quarters for her . She began picking out the egg and sausage and throwing the pieces of muffin at her brother. Whatever.
I stopped for gas, only putting a quarter tank--enough to get me to work and back. I got back on the road and called Grandma Martha, the sitter. When she asked what happened, I stopped and considered what HAD happened. "I have no idea."
I called school and explained that I was WAY late. They were understanding. Would I be in time to teach my 2nd period class? Of course I would. Or so I thought.
Things were fine on the way out of town. Grace was occupied with her "sammich" and I can only presume Wesley's massive evacuation of his bowels followed by dinosaur-chasing had exhausted him because he was OUT. When we got to the two lane part of our commute, we got stuck behind a school bus. Between stops, the bus was only going 35 (IN A 55 MPH ZONE). Later and later, still. As the bus turned off of the highway, I breathed a sigh of relief and FLOORED IT. Approximately two minutes later, I saw the flashing lights.
Always the strategist, I reached into the back seat and plucked the pacifiers out of the kids' mouths. By the time the young officer got to my window, the sounds from inside my car were ear-splitting.
Officer (slightly raising his voice to be heard over the roar): Everything OK?
Me (smiling sweetly): Yes, sir.
Officer: You were going kind of fast.
Me: Was I? Sorry. I'll slow down.
Officer: OK, well be careful.
Me: Thanks.
ZOOM! I was out of there, and yes, I slowed down. Pacifiers back in place, we were on our way, again. We were almost there. I heard a smacking sound from the back seat.
Grace: Mmmmm....good toes.
I turned to see my adorable daughter pretending to eat her toes, like her brother. Both kids had taken off their shoes (OK, dinosaur slipper OR shoes) and socks. But Grace was also now dressed ONLY in her diaper. HOW IN THE WORLD? She's like Houdini.
Minutes later, I showed up at Grandma Martha's: Grace in only a diaper, upside down, feet over my left shoulder, smiling like mad. Wesley, with bare feet, slung over my right forearm. Their socks and Grace's clothes in a ball under my right arm.
I made it to work only 5 minutes late for my 2nd period class, which, by the way, is an HOUR AND TEN MINUTES LATE FOR WORK. So, what am I teaching my kids? Certainly not the importance of punctuality, I guess. But as this does not happen often, I hope I am teaching them, that occasionally, it is OK to slow life down for a second and to not be perfect, as long as you can live with the consequences.
Thanks to Pocahontus Fauss at http://www.reddaisyphoto.com/ for the Pics.
