It's Monday. I got the boys to school and daycare, and was driving to work deep in thought. "I know I brushed my teeth this morning. Now, did I brush my hair? Yes, I think I did. I think I brushed my hair, but I know I brushed my teeth." This was my inner dialogue.
It's the third week of Kindergarten for my 5 year old and the third week at a new daycare for my 2 (almost 3) year old. Mondays are always harder anyways.
My oldest had a giant blister on his foot and wanted to get a ride to school instead of taking the bus. Of course I had my doubts - I mean maybe I should have just given him a ride to school - he's just a kindergartener and he did have a giant blister. I was second guessing my firm "you'll take the bus" stance, but I had decided to stand my ground, and I couldn't show any sign of doubt because kids sense that stuff.
A lot of detail is probably not necessary, but after protesting, pleading to be driven to school, crying, and running away, he did get on the bus. It was only 7:25, and I was beat.
I turned toward the house to find my next victim.
The youngest was still asleep, but he woke up when I was picking out some clothes from his drawers. Luckily for me, he did not put 2 and 2 together, and went along with me packing up his bag, and even picked out a stuffed animal to go with him. He got dressed, except for his jammy shirt which he was not interested in changing, and we got into the car to head to daycare.
He probably assumed we were going to grammas house because he was so agreeable, and he loves grammas house. Since we were almost to the daycare, I figured I'd better break the news to him, and said "Oh, I think we forgot your blanket, but I bet daycare has a blanket that you can use for your nap. We can ask her when we get there."
This is where his morning made a turn, and followed a similar pattern to his brother's with some protesting, requesting Mom, requesting Dad, and crying, but in the end, he stayed at daycare, and I headed towards work.
This leads me to the title of my blog and where I started off. I left daycare feeling like I'd just been through a battle, and was just trying to gather myself together as I was heading into my office, just a few minutes behind schedule. I suppose I always show up to work somewhere on the spectrum of dishevelment.
This morning, I had a few things going for me. In addition to being appropriately dressed, my teeth got brushed, and so did my hair... I think.
