Heeeeeere's Johnny!

     I threatened to go Gangnam Style at the bus stop.
    
     Let's just say not a whole lot has improved about our mornings since the first day of the 2012 school year.

     Everyone was listening to me, yet no one was hearing me. So I did what every good mother does. I threatened them. Not only would I have gone all Gangnam, but I'm pretty sure I would have worn sunglasses. Nothing like the threat of public humiliation to get you in gear.

     Of course this was after I sang the most annoying song in the history of the world to get them out of bed just a tad quicker. In the most annoying voice I could muster, I sang this little hand-clapping ditty that our girl scout troop used to sing...

     Say, say little playmate.
     Come out and play with me.
     And bring your dollies three.
     Climb up my apple tree.

     Slide down my rainbow,
     Into my cellar door.
     And we'll be jolly friends,
     forevermore, forevermore, forever more...more...more.

     (Say this like Chandler Bing) Ummm, could there be a more annoying song to wake up to in the morning?

     For two boys? I think not.

     In all fairness, they actually get up pretty well. It's after that when chaos ensues. Or actually, it seems to be whenever we have time constraints or pretty much have to be anywhere. It can be summed up in four words.

     No. Sense. Of. Urgency.

     My youngest could have one leg in his pants while getting dressed and decide to do something like play a board game. This hasn't happened yet, but will any day now.

     One day my youngest even came home from school with a polo shirt on backwards. Like, the kind with three buttons in the front...on BACKWARDS. I tell myself that this somehow occurred on the bus on the way home and that surely all of us couldn't have been that nuts that morning. However, this is the child who wore cleats to preschool two days in a row because we couldn't find his shoes.

     My oldest could be wearing a Velcro suit with everything he needs stuck to it, and we still wouldn't be able to find something.

     And I truly, TRULY would like to make it until 7 a.m., without feeling a tiny bit like Mommy Dearest.

     And it's not just school. Whenever we are on a deadline, things happen. Someone will have to poop as we are walking out the door, or on the way to baseball practice a hummingbird will fly in the house (true story.)

     One day I was so befuddled by the time we left, I drove to the wrong sport.

     The other morning before school I was particularly stressed out. I decided to go with the saying "fake it until you make it." I plastered a huge smile onto my face and hoped that if I smiled long enough maybe I would feel peace and happiness.

     My husband took one look at me and cracked up, because I'm pretty sure I looked a lot like Jack Nicholson right after he pops his head through the splintered door with a billowing, "Heeeeeeeere's Johnny!"   

     I'm sure I'm a lot to blame. I'm not a great morning person, and I'm sure I could wake up earlier so things would go smoother. They would have time to wake up and unwind more before they have to get going. Blah. Blah. Blah.

     On the flipside, our nights rock! We might all watch a family friendly show together, or pile up in a big "snuggle patch" as my littlest one calls them. Heck, just the other night, in true Bill Cosby style, we even had a trial to see if my husband had, in fact, killed the moth we found dead in the trash that I wanted to peacefully capture and set free. I was serious about it. My oldest was the attorney, and I was even trying to find the meat tenderizer to use for a gavel.

     So our evenings are fun, even sometimes downright spectacular. But those mornings...

     And I do take a lot of the blame for this. I'm not organized. I need to implement a better system. If I came up with something, I'm sure they would follow it. Who is the parent here? I'm sure the chaos in the morning is possibly them just getting caught up in the whirlwind that is otherwise known as their mother.

     But the good news is that I did not have to dance at the bus stop. Whew, that was close. The most embarrassing bus stop event was probably from last year when I wore kelly green heels with pajama pants while waiting on the bus.

     I probably couldn't find my shoes.

    Yeah, no idea where they get it...


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