As I finally made it thru the school doors this morning to drop the two oldest boys only off to school, the girls who hold the door open for me, viewed my boys and my morning, and all laughed and someone who knows me well says “You should just have someone do a documentary on your trips to school. Then you would be rich.”
If I were rich, I’d go spend a day at the spa. Wouldn’t that be grand?
I don’t have request for a documentary but I can blog!
My husband teased me that I had slept in, I try to convince him that I WOULD get up early but I can’t because our cat sleeps on our bed. Well, technically, she sleeps on top of me, on my back or shoulder, whichever happens to be the best resting spot. I wake every morning thinking I am shedding white hair and panic only momentarily to realize it was just the cat. I could never sleep in any morning anyhow, my dog won’t let me.
Son2 is ALWAYS the first one awake. He is all geared up for a run at school tomorrow, the fact that his birthday is coming up and that tomorrow he should be able to wear shorts. He’s a happy kid, it’s a great morning for him.
When he finishes his cereal, my husbands cat (he would deny this forever but he does love this little scrawny kitten. I got to name the other cat; this little one is Shotgun Shell. Can you tell we have boys?) knocks over a lily and a candle holder off a table trying to get some loving from anyone.
And then the two youngest boys come tumbling down the steps. The youngest is filling me in how he beat up coyotes so they didn’t get his blanket last night and the older is wailing and moaning because no one has poured him is cereal. Within less than a minute, the two youngest get in an argument over who had more cereal or some such nonsense.
When everyone is settled and eating, our oldest son comes sleepily down the steps. Except he will deny he is sleepy. He moves exceptionally slow compared to his brothers, and yet, we have not had to wait for him. I have never figured this out.
Over cereal, we discuss the weird huge marshmallow we found in the Son1’s bowl of lucky charms, how crocs are not great running shoes, how crocs can make you run fast though, how gym shoes are not crocs, how crocs are the best shoes…..it’s a hot topic at the table right now.
Son2 wants some exercise since he is all ready for school. He gears up in leather work gloves, his trusty camo hat, an orange stocking cap and the white jersey coat he had to have that is forever dirty to go out and ride his bike before we leave. This causes a mad dash to the window to sit on the only chair by the window that suddenly two boys want to see out of at the same time. It’s like they have never seen Son2 ride his bike before. Son3 has perfected blocking the entire view from anyone else. Son4 has perfected how to climb on top of Son3 to climb over top of him to see out the window. This always causes huge shouts of annoyance.
In mere moments, a bunch of doors are slammed. Our house is a bunch of doors. Son3 is dressed in his favorite lion jammies, his cowboy boots are ka-clicking thru the house, his red winter jacket is on and his John Deere bike helmet. He’s off to race bikes with Son2.
Son4 HAS to be outside then! He digs thru the monstrous basket of socks to find some, brings me his Lightening shoes and bemoans the fact that I did not get his Lightening jammies washed last night so he could be wearing those instead. He puts on his coat, determined to zip it himself, and puts on an orange stocking cap we have to brush sticks off of. Once I get it on his head, he does a little song “I’m a cool Dude, like Jude!” he dances and heads out the door.
We all climb into “mommy bus” (Son3 calls it this), and Son1 makes it right on time, as usual. We buckle down, crank our latest favorite song we have on cd borrowed from the library and if we hit song three and crank the stereo, it actually sounds like we are a big huge tractor starting up and headed on the road. The boys find this SO cool. As a girl raised with tractors, even I giggle at it too. It is cool!
When we get to school, it actually looks like a flood of camo and orange flowing from the door. The all fall over each other to see who can get out first and then they run for all they are worth up the sidewalk.
I count. Son2 is in the lead. Son3 is still in boots and helmet and in second. Son1 is meandering up the walk. Son4 is running for all he is worth but since he is the last one out he is the last in line and as soon as he realizes it, he is crushed and begins wailing. “They all beat me!” he wails.
I have to football hold him up the main doors where Son3 is standing there talking to the teachers about his boots, jammies and helmet. Upon seeing Son3, Son4 falls all apart again and won’t stand. He turns into a sloth. His legs won’t work. He clings to me. I can take my hands away and he just hangs there.
I nod my head hello and say “Good morning, everyone!” cheerily. How can I not? They are all laughing!
We drop each boy off at their class, going over again what we are having for dinner. Everyone must hug. And being boys, when they hug each other they must try to pick the other one up or, in the case of Son3&4, they must hang on their brothers. You can’t miss us, we really stand out – even in all camo.
On the way out the door, I have to drop a note off to the gym teacher saying “please stress to the kids the need for gym shoes and not crocs on the mile run. Apparently Moma’s don’t know best and gym teachers do”.
Everyone must pat Son3 on his helmeted head as we walk thru the hallway. It dawns on me that it didn’t even faze me how ridiculously funny he looks. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
And that is a glimpse into the first two hours of my morning, five days a week! Now do you see why the coffee is always on?
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