Monday, September 26, 2011

Too Many Mornings

Mornings in our house are crazy.

I have heard tales of parents having to drag their children out of bed so that they can get to school on time. They are mythical beasts, like children who pick up their toys and don't laugh at fart jokes. My children are up at 6am. Every single day. Although they can entertain themselves, they are unable to do this quietly. There is usually a lot of loud squabbling, and a few thumps that shake the house, but that the children are unable to detect, judging from the blank looks on their faces when asked about them.

You would think that, since they wake up so early, getting them ready for school is easy. You would be wrong.

Steve does not wake up with the children on school days. I will not delve into the reasons behind this, other than to say he does not wake up a very cheerful person on the best of days, and that some things are for the best. So, after my morning run, I gather the children in the kitchen, make sure the pets are fed, make the kids breakfast, pack snacks for school, make sure book-bags are equipped with any homework or library books or field-trip forms, and clean up the breakfast table. Sometimes I remember to eat something myself, and pour myself a cup of coffee that is really, really large.

When the boys are done eating, they are supposed to go upstairs to do their jobs. Their jobs are: 1 - brush teeth, 2 - get dressed, 3 - make bed. There is a chart upstairs with this list posted on it. And any of the boys could tell you what they are supposed to do in their sleep. It isn't secret, and the list of often pointed out, outlined, and repeated.

What usually happens, though, is that the boys make it halfway up the stairs and then they forget.

Me (from kitchen): Go do your jobs!

Nick (in underwear, walking back into the kitchen): Mom? Did you know that Oshiwat is the strongest water Pokemon in the Sinnoh region?

Me: Less Pokemon, more getting dressed.

There is running around, thumping, arguing... Stop it! Get off my bed! Do your jobs! YOU do YOUR jobs! Mom, Andy's running! Do you want a punch in the face? (this is one of the boys speaking, not me.)

Me (downstairs, dashing from one corner to another, shouting) : DO YOUR JOBS! AND STOP SHOUTING! YOUR DAD IS SLEEPING!"

When I come upstairs I usually find Nick half dressed, and the other two naked and rolling around on the floor in some strange exercise which is half playing and half reaching for seasonally inappropriate clothing. I try to help them by selecting clothing for them and reminding them of their jobs. Again. Nathan responds by getting upset (I KNOW!) and Andy responds by crying because he "needs" help, and also "It's gonna take a long time!" or "It's gonna be to HARD!" We all know the stress that can be caused by putting on pants.

When I try to take a shower, I am usually interrupted by a tearful child who either needs help or revenge. They boys never remember to put shoes on, and they can never find them. And Nicholas takes any opportunity he can to remind me that he hates school.

Me: You're going to miss the bus!

Nick: I hope we miss it. I hate school!

By the time we make it out to the bus, I am very glad to put them on it.

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