It's Monday, Can You Tell?

OH MAH GAWD. Monster just wanted to see my head spin today. I know it.

The day started with me waking up 20 minutes late. Awesome. Then Monster turning cartoons on which means he will take fifty years to get ready for the day instead of twenty. So I changed the channel only to hear “MOOOOOMMMMM!!!” Trust, he got an ear full for that one.

I look in his back pack to see that Friday he got his school picture order form in. Fabulous. I ask him why he didn’t tell me Friday (I swear I looked in the bag. Twice.) and his genius reply was “It’s a secwet, Mom. Duh.” I tell him that no, there are no secrets and he rolls his eyes. He’s FIVE. Excuse me, five and a half. What the ferk ever. He’s too young for that nonsense. I’m supposed to get at least ten more years before the attitude starts. (I know, I know. I’m so wrong for that. But I can dream, right?)

So then he finally gets dressed.

Me: “Monster, socks.” (from the kitchen while making his lunch because he *refuses* to eat school lunch. He says it’s gross and when I threaten to make him eat the school lunch he literally cries. I’m sure it’s bland, but WTF? Tear worthy? No.)

Monster: “Where’s my udder Sonic shoe?”

Me: “No Monster, sneakers.”

Monster: “I want duh Sonic shoes!”

Me: (very close to busting a vein in my forehead) “I. Don’t. Care. Socks and sneakers now!”

Monster: “Ugh!” (then stomps into the kitchen holding his sneakers) “Why do you want me tuh wear dese?”

Me: “Because you have to. It’s school. You have recess and stuff. I know you wore the Sonic shoes last year, but that was pre-k and you didn’t have PE in pre-k. Now put. them. ON!”

Monster: “Fine. Ugh.” (another eye roll. Jebus.)

So he gets the shoes on. The baby is sitting her booster seat all like “Mmm Dora cereal.” while she watches this entire thing go down. I’m quite concerned about what it means for her that Monster is her influence. But that’s for another day.

I finally get us ready to walk out the door and Monster doesn’t have a hoodie on. It is now ten minutes after the latest we can leave the house without me driving like a bat out of you-know-where to get to school on time.

Me: “Monster, hoodie.”

Monster: “Whewe’s duh Scooby one?”

Me: “I don’t know. It’s your hoodie. Where’d you put it?”

Monster: “I don’t uh-membew.”

Me: (searching frantically for said hoodie because I don’t know where his other two are anyways,with the baby on my hip.) “Well son, you need to find it because it’s only sixty degrees out and we live in Florida and you complain and I just don’t want to hear it. Where is the hoodie? Where did you take it off last?”

Monster: “I dunno. I only knowed whewe I take it off when I see it.”

Me: (presumably turning more red by the second, start searching through the thankfully clean laundry hamper. I pull out his Perry hoodie.) “Here, wear this.”

Monster: “It’s not Scooby.”

Me: “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PUT ON THE HOODIE. WE ARE LATE. NOT A LITTLE LATE, WE ARE LATE-LATE. Put it on.“

Thankfully he scrambled at that moment and got the damn thing on and we ran out the door.

But it gets better. I wasn’t wearing shoes. Not even flip flops. And I had on fushia paisley fleece pajama pants with a red UGA hoodie. I slept on wet hair so not even a hair tie is going to salvage what’s on my head. But I don’t even look back. I take my raggedy self straight to the car, get Roo buckled in (who’s also in pajamas, hers just happen to be way cuter) and demand that Monster hurries up and buckles himself in.

I swear I should’ve never taken that dagum harness off of his carseat and turned it into booster mode. How on Earth he takes longer to buckle a seat belt than a five point harness, I’ll never understand.

And then I get home. The house is a wreck. I mean way worse than usual. At any given moment if you come over, there is likely some sort of laundry on one of my adorable accessory chairs. I love those chairs. They are cute and comfortable and take up much less space in my tiny living room than a love seat. And they serve as a laundry folding area. Great. But this? No, no. This is way more than laundry on a chair. This is laundry everywhere, my craft table in shambles from using it for something else this weekend, the dining area is just… no. Did a bomb go off in here? Did tornadoes come through and some how leave my walls intact? What. happened.

So that’s Monday. All before 9 am.

~ Dee

PS – I still don’t have shoes on. And I haven’t changed. I did re-wet my hair though, and threw it right back up into a hair tie. But I got the baby dressed and that totally counts for something.