Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Tuesday Calm

Some not good mornings can still be calm mornings, I've learned, by completely and totally lowering all expectations.

This morning, I woke up late, which means EVERYONE woke up late, and all my work pants except the ankle pants, were dirty. (Because I didn't do laundry, not because I woke up late.) This is the first thing I noticed. The second thing I noticed is I had fuzzy ankles. I'm trying to wear jeans less in the office (it's truly a difficult thing to accomplish, because jeans are so... jeans). So I used my husband's razor really quickly to do a quick clean-up of the ankle area. Don't tell him. But I'm not wearing jeans today. Victory! After, of course, I ran downstairs and threw some toast in the oven because my sons need to eat before school (yeah yeah I know, and I did buy a toaster, it's sitting in the box looking shiny and new) and they all got fed, except me. I'm starving. BUT I HAD COFFEE.

Everyone got dressed. Then Turbo couldn't find his shoes. We looked everywhere, and still, only had the one. So he borrowed my five-finger Vibram toe shoes that fit him. He loves those shoes as much as I do. The other students don't know how to quite react, but it's Colorado, so they all have at least SEEN those shoes on others, just not in school. TOE SHOES ARE COOL!

My other son, Bear, slipped out the door with jogging pants, even though I told him he couldn't wear sweat to school. But hey, his long, flowy, in-his-face, over-his-eye hair was brushed, as were his teeth, with minimal prodding. I let the sweatpants slide, because the alternative was being late and chances are good no one at school will notice they break the school's dress code. Turbo's teeth were brushed, too. I'M WINNING!

So this morning, I woke up late and did a bunch of quick re-evaluation of our normal routines, re-prioritized how I would like my morning to go, lowered my expectations of EVERYTHING, and got everyone fed, dressed and out the door on time, without frantically throwing shoes and snacks at my sons screaming 'to the TRUCK GET IN THE TRUCK' as they flee out the door ducking and screaming 'I DON"T HAVE SHOES ON' and 'MY BACKPACK' and 'AAAAAAHHHHHHHH' like sometimes happens when we all wake up 45 minutes late.

So even though today started 45 minutes late, we still all arrived calm, cool, mostly-fed, not fuzzy-legged, not shoeless, not bad-breath-ed, and not like we all just emerged from the bloody battle that we call 'the morning routine.'

Sweet. 





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