Spring break was relaxing, fantastic, lazy, and overly fun.
With that luxury of leisure time lulling us all into a hypnotic state of pure bliss, re-entry back into our normal pace of things was complete chaos.
Nobody was moving fast on Monday morning, and none of us nudged the other. It was raining a bit which seemed to set an unrealistic cadence in how we recalibrated to the reality of morning activities. We were moving way too slowly.
(Huh? When was this? Must have been during spring break when we ignored the outside world.)
Hubby was in charge of dropping the 11-year-old off because he was using the car. This meant his morning schedule was even tighter because our daughter could not arrive late for school.
I was yelling down the stairs – going over the verbal checklist – making sure she had the tools for being a productive 6th grader:
- check for lunch account
- lunch (Her: “No mommy, you gave me check for school lunch.” / Me: “Duh!”)
- smooches from mommy
Once they were gone, I had one more hurdle to get over. This hurdle was rousing the 3-year-old from bed – which is not very fun. On this particular morning, he couldn’t get up because “he had no energy.”
Other mornings he cannot get up because he has one or a combo of the following ailments: hiccups, itchies, needs more dream time, bed is too snuggly, nighttime diaper so full he can’t move…and the list goes on. The point is my little guy is not a morning child.
I stared down at him, all cozy and sweet in his footed pajamas, and took a deep breath. I would not lose my patience (or miss my bus) during this potential showdown in getting the 3-year-old dressed. It took me about 25 minutes to get him out of the bed, PJs off, clothes on, teeth brushed, hair combed, tears wiped…and all the rest of the “but why do I have to get up today” drama – so he could be ready for preschool.
I rushed downstairs with hubby’s wallet I found in the bathroom, my laptop on one hip, the sullen 3-year-old on the other hip, and my cell phone lodged between my ear and shoulder – calling hubby to tell him to return home for his wallet.
Then I saw my mother-in-law. My face twisted up into a nonverbal WTH look.
My mother-in-law was STILL in her pajamas. Uhm, what was going on here?
Me: “So, are you taking him to preschool in your pajamas? I’m not judging, just wondering.”
Mother-in-law: “He doesn’t go back to school until Wednesday. Preschool is not in session today. I put it on the calendar”
I looked at my mother-in-law and busted out laughing. I didn’t even know preschool was closed and I wrestled with the 3-year-old for absolutely no reason. I could have left him sleeping in bed and had a turtle slow morning for myself.
And the calendar – the calendar I demand everyone use as the communication station to keep us all on track – I had not looked at it. My bad!
I chuckled some more, shook off my rushed energy, and went to grab my travel mug. Hubby had made my favorite tea, but left his wallet. We had an abundance of chaos going on.
My bus was coming and I hustled out the house. My mother-in-law and 3-year-old went out onto the back porch to wave to me as I stood on the bus stop. As I waved to them – after running to the bus stop and not spilling my tea – I saw hubby returning to the house for his wallet. I waved at him too.
As I relaxed on my bus ride to work, I thought about all the chaos that had transpired before 8 a.m.
I’m sure my mother-in-law thought I was a nutcase that morning. She was right and I’m just fine with that. I have other days, this week, to be on top of things – maybe.