The Morning I Forgot my Coffee

The morning I forgot coffee was not good.

For whatever reason, probably had something to do with the cat fight of Georgia and Calico in the middle of the night, I woke up exhausted. Like, pry my eyes open, used shampoo twice instead of shampoo and then conditioner, make the boys make their lunch, pour the coffee in the filter with an extra scoop exhausted.


Maybe it was in the air because S4 slept with us in the night (that might have had something to do with it to), S1 was late getting up for school and S3 forgot the “wear shoes to school, cowboy boots to church” rule.


Anyway, my hair was too snarly to do anything with, we were too late to look pretty, the 3 younger boys all decided to have a football pile up game instead of getting in the suburban, S1 needed a note written for school and we rushed out of the house.


My coffee in my orange and brown Tupperware coffee cup thingy (this Tupperware cup thingy ROCKS, by the way) sat forlornly alone on the counter. No lips had ever touched it.
I realized it before I was a mile up the road and literally groaned aloud.
Now just imagine what we looked like when we arrived at school. I was there in my still trying to prop my eyes open, hair snarly and wet, with lipstick on. Well, not really lipstick, I thought I grabbed my chap stick but it was my Burt's bees dark tint lip balm and it's my emergency lipstick. And that is what I grabbed. So my lips looked beautiful on my makeup less face framed by my wet snarly hair.

S1 was trying to untangle his back pack because it had literally been tossed into the back of the suburban and was a mess.

S2 was covered in mud. It's a balmy 45 degrees this morning, perfect shorts weather, don't you know, and he had to dive to catch a football apparently and we can't get his Red Wings shorts, t shirt or jersey dirty, we must sacrifice skin. Skin heals, stains don't come out. He was sight.
S3 was sporting cowboy boots, one pant leg tucked into the boot, one hanging out. I am nearly certain he has no socks on. He has on gym elastic pants, and a monster truck sweatshirt and S4's play winter jacket.

Imagine what S2 and S3 look like standing next to each other.

S4 looks cute. I just have to admit it, he does. He has on matching clothes, his shirt is some ultra cool guitar shirt I just love. He has on his correct coat. He has shoes and socks on. He matches. He is adorable, even if he is bald right now. He races up to the school screaming and yelling and laughing like he is a bit crazy. This comes as shocking, he has been crying all morning because he had to wake up and no one got his cereal bowl, no one prayed with him, no one saved his favorite cereal, no one...well, you get the idea.

I finally make it into school with the troop of boys and I see that S4 needs to be reined in. He is going to crazy run into someone and I am certain it will be one of the kindergartners or preschoolers carrying breakfast to their room...no doubt the child carrying syrup.
I go to hold his hand and he says “I'm big, I can walk by myself.”

Yesterday when we went to school, they fought to hold my hand. S3 and S4 usually hold my hand on either side all the way down the hallway. Yesterday we had Marky (and his cool car seat) and it was me, Marky, S3 and S4 all holding hands and walking down the hallway like some beautiful picture you see posted on school brochures and think “i wonder how much they payed those poor people and how much they bribed those kids too look that perfect”.

Not this morning. He shrunk. I mean, he squatted down so he was walking with great difficulty so that his hands all but dragged on the floor. His face was one of complete dejection. If I wanted to hold his hand, I was going to have to monkey walk like him.

It was like this that we made it to S1. We didn't have to walk to his locker because walking like a monkey takes so long that he met us halfway. His friends were standing around staring at us and I felt a little bad for S1, I mean, we were pretty embarrassing I thought.

His friends stood there staring at monkey boy, cowboy boy, hockey boy and half awake mom and said “ahhhhh, I wish we had your family. I think I'll take a picture!” He pulls out his IMAGINARY camera and snaps photos. I have seen this boy regularly for four years, and every morning of school this year. “Really,” the boys continues, “I love your family.”

Yah, I wouldn't trade them for the world (or coffee) either.

But I am drinking my coffee rather quickly as I write this now. I don't know what it'll be like when I go back to pick the boys up this afternoon......