Are we going to finish the same way we started?

Well, I guess since the week started off so wonderful and calm it would only make sense to end the week in the complete opposite way.

First of all, let me just say–it rained all night.  Bad sign.

Woke up this morning [on time], made breakfast for Vanessa, fed the dog, gathered everything up…. paperwork needed, laptop, giant bag of stuff, poster boards for school, purse, phone, and-oh yea, the kid.

Gotta go dress the kid who is of course, still sleeping.  That’s fine with me though because he’s a lot easier to deal with when he’s not awake.  I started with the socks.  He got mad.  He started kicking and whining.  {Insert giant sigh here}. I took a deep breath and I tried again.  Same response only with a little more aggravation and defiance.  Okay, let’s skip that part for now.  I changed his pull up and put on a fresh one.  No problem there.  Good sign.  I grab his pants and confidently start to dress him.  {Repeat first response and add a hacking cough from Carter}.  Great.  I wonder if he’s getting sick.  I place my palm on his forehead and wonder if he feels warm because he’s been under his thick covers or if he’s got a low grade fever.  I’m definitely not about to check his temperature though.  That would be a whole other rumble in the ring that I’m just not prepared for.  (It’s difficult enough to get those pants on.)  I move on to the shirt before he has time to take his pants off and he keeps fighting.

I wish I could bribe this kid.  Too bad for me he doesn’t understand that concept.  I can’t say things like, “Carter, if you get dressed and have a good morning, Mommy will let you have ice cream when we get home.”  Or “Carter, if you don’t stop acting like this, you’re not going to be able to watch TV later.”  I’m just not that fortunate to be able to use bribery.

Once I wrestle Carter into his shirt using my grown up strength to my advantage, I decide to strap him in his carseat so he can’t undress.  His shoes and socks aren’t on, but that’s okay. The good news is that we don’t live up north where he would definitely freeze his butt off and still not want to get dressed.  It actually feels nice outside, except for the rain.

My anxiety about being late kicks into full speed as I put everything else in the car.

The rain starts falling a little more persistently as I check to make sure the dog is inside, the lights are off and the doors are locked.  I sprint to the car barely getting the toes of my leopard print flats wet.  Whew!  I pull out of the driveway as I smooth my hair out of my face.  I realize how frizzy it’s already gotten.  I spent all that time this morning straightening it and in two seconds it looks like I’ve been participating in a heavy metal concert.

Oh crap! The straightener! I know deep inside the recesses of my brain that I turned that thing off, but my anxiety about it won’t let me continue until I turn around and make sure.  {Insert eye roll, giant sigh, and heart palpitations here}.  I have a mini argument with myself

Self:  I turned it off, I’m not going back to check.

Self with anxiety:  What if you didn’t and your house burns down?

Self:  It won’t, I even said, “Straightener off and unplugged” when I turned it off this morning.

Self with anxiety:  What if you’re actually thinking about yesterday when you said that and you didn’t turn it off this morning?

Self:  Crap.  You’re right.

My inner turmoil ends right before I exit the neighborhood and I turn around to check the straightener.  I dash out of the car through even heavier rain than before.  And guess what? The straightener is OFF! So not only did I waste time straightening my hair, I also wasted time turning around to check if I turned it off?  Back to the car and my hair will definitely be going in a ponytail soon.

Finally off to drop the kids off, I make my way to my first stop-Vanessa’s school, which is about 7 miles away.  During the stressful ride through the pouring rain Carter starts giggling.  I swear, this kid is a piece of work.  I wonder what the hell he could possibly think is so funny since 10 minutes ago he was wearing horns and had a pitchfork.  I’ll take it though if it means he’s going to cooperate when I put his shoes on.

Once I arrive at Carter’s daycare the rain has stopped {insert relieved sigh here}.  He’s awake and he brushes his teeth without any issues.  I sing him a stupid song that he loves from a kid’s tv show and he smiles.  We’re doing good.  I put on his shoes and socks without needing restraints.

I carry him to the breakfast room since he kind of resists going without me.  I ask him for a high five (he gives me two) and a kiss and wave bye to him.

{Insert big sigh…of RELIEF here}.

Now, let’s see how the rest of the day goes. *Fingers crossed*

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