Where Ladybugs Roar

Confessions and Passions of a Compulsive Writer

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Two kids are twice as hard as one

I know that it should be an arithmetic obvious statement, but it's true.

This cold is knocking me flat, so... I'll admit... I'm not at my A game, but getting two kids ready for school when they're doing everything to deviate your course... it ain't pretty... really... really.

7 a.m.- Wendy wakes up from cold medicine induced fog... sees No. 1 daughter sleeping beside me because she can't possibly sleep in bed all night. Groans... groans again... wakes up daughter and sends B upstairs to wake up No. 1 son.

7:05- Wendy sends children back upstairs to get dressed when they tromp back downstairs having accomplished nothing.

7:10- Wendy sets timer for the absolute last moment we can leave and tells kids to eat breakfast. They stare blankly. "Breakfast... what is breakfast, Mother? We have never heard of such a thing and cannot possibly know what we might want. So, we will stare." T has apple juice. (Whatever... he has lunch practically when he gets to school, so no big deal.) B sits down to eat coffee cake but is distracted by the air passing around her and keeps forgetting to eat.

7:25- B is nearly halfway through her 'breakfast of champions' but keeps wandering off vaguely.

(Wendy begins rambling admonishment to B to 'eat her food', 'brush her hair', and 'make her lunch.' It's always answered by 'Right... I forgot.' By the time she reaches the bus stop, B will have been reminded several dozen times on each of these thing.)

7:30- Admonish No. 1 son to find socks. No socks to be found. Wendy sits down to find socks. B wanders around.

7:40- After being told to make her own lunch, B drops a plate. Plastic plate with pieces of bread on it snaps in half. Crying ensues. Lots and lots of crying. Apparently... this is her very favoritist plate, and she can't possibly make a sandwich after such drama. Plate and bread must be thrown away... causing enormous sob-fest. Lunch box which went MIA yesterday is found. There was much rejoicing.

7:45-Find No. 1 son and No. 1 daughter socks. Timer goes off.

7:50-Wendy goes to brush B's hair... only to find a huge gob of honey from the sandwich she just made in it. HUGE GOB. We run to sink to rinse out. Wendy finishes gathering together all of B's stuff (including putting everything in the lunch box that she'd forgotten) and shoves it in her backpack. T begins putting on shoes... this takes five minutes (though they are velcro) because there must be precise shoe tongue placement. Precise. If the tongue is in the wrong place, the shoe must be removed and reapplied to foot. Inappropriate shoe application would, of course, result in anarchy, chaos, and the break-down of society as we know it.

8:00- No. 1 son has disappeared and will not answer to name. B and I assume he is outside and go running out the door. We stop at car and start calling his name. T comes strolling out without a care in the world explaining that he was upstairs playing. I ask him where his backpack is. He has no idea, but tells me to hurry and get it.

8:05- We get in the car, and I discover B left the hatch open all night when she was getting something out. Thankfully, the car starts. We get to the bus on time and there was much rejoicing. The kids get out of the car, and there was even greater rejoicing.

I think I'm going back to bed.

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