(for the record – no baby yet….)
Let me start by saying that I’m not precisely a morning girl. I don’t really LIKE waking up and starting the day, I’d almost always rather laze in bed, read for a while, doze off and on. But I’m thirty six, and have reluctantly learned that I don’t always get what I want, and so have conditioned myself to get up and get coffee and get coherent. Both my kids, unfortunately, inherited my sleepy tendencies. Marc pops out of bed ready to start the day, but nope, they couldn’t have gotten that gene. They got the “have to be dragged out of bed, and don’t talk to me for a while” gene.
School has been an almost constant battle for my little girl from the beginning. She flat out hated kindergarten and is doing much better at first grade, but getting her out the door is still a struggle. We’ve tried a whole bunch of different ways to deal with it, from getting her up earlier, putting her to bed earlier, breakfast in the car, laying her clothes out and packing her bag early, punishing her by taking her dolls away for mornings with major tantrums and rewarding with stickers and special treats when she behaves. And for the most part, we’ve got it under control. She gets a sticker every morning that she goes without a struggle, and if she gets ten stickers in a row, she gets a special treat of one on one time, dinner with Daddy.
This morning didn’t go well. It just didn’t. And it should have. All the stars were aligned for it – it was inside out day at school, and she was very excited about wearing her pants inside out and her shirt on backwards. She had a can of peas to bring in for the food drive, a Scholastic order form to hand in to get new books, and it’s the last day before vacation. Everything was packed last night, her clothes laid out, she slept relatively well – got up once and crawled into bed with me, but fell back asleep pretty quickly. And she flat out didn’t want to go. Claimed she felt like she was bleeding everywhere. She was sick and why did we sign her up for school in the first place – she hates going to stupid school and isn’t going. She trudged out the door crying, sat on the top of the stairs, refusing to go. I got her downstairs and out the door, only to have her turn around sobbing and beg for another hug and a kiss. There’s no joy in shipping your child off with tears streaming down her face and utter misery in every line of her body – and I know I’ll spend the rest of the day feeling guilty for sending her (even though she’s missed a ton of school this year, between Jewish holidays and the H1N1 – she really can’t blow off any more).
In other news… Sam and Jordyn are here, and both delighted with themselves. I love this new schedule, I’m babysitting a different kid every day. And Sam is loving having a buddy here to play with, and switching it up means that they never get sick of each other.
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