Thursday, September 25, 2008

Can anyone tell me Why?

Nine days out of ten, I get up in the morning an hour before my children. I sit bleary-eyed in front of my computer for a few minutes and hope I’ve gotten some e-mails in the night. Something *besides* online sales and ads for Viagra, that is. Then I drink a big glass of chocolate milk. This is the part of the morning where I wished I drank coffee like a grown-up, but I don’t. So chocolate milk it is.

Then, I shower. Get dressed. Put on my make up. Fix my hair or at the very least put it up in a ponytail. Get the kids breakfast ready. Wake the kids, eat breakfast with them, and spend a little time refereeing bonding with them for the next half hour. Then, we walk to school together. I walk all three of them in the front door, saying hello to the various teachers and staff scattered about. I kiss Kellen and Brayden good-bye for the day (ok, I admit, we’re down to the “eye-rolling while I give them a hug and a quick peck on the top of the head” category of kissing, but at least I still get that) and then I walk Kendrie to her room, saying good morning to her teacher and the other teachers in the hall. I leave the school, saying good BYE to the staff, and walk home, whereupon I normally have nothing substantial to do but get back on the computer and hope once again for some good e-mails or blog reading.

So can anyone tell me WHY, on that tenth day, things do not go as planned? The tenth day (which was TODAY, by the way) is the day I try valiantly to sleep as late as my children. It’s never successful, especially lately, but I do try. I skip the normal (ie, hygienic) parts of my morning such as showering or brushing my teeth. I throw sweat pants on under the t-shirt that I slept in, still have yesterday’s eye makeup running down my cheeks, and my hair is sticking out everywhere. I wake the kids just a few minutes after I get out of bed, throw granola bars at them, and then I drive my kids to school so as not to face anyone. Yes, I know our country is paying through the nose for gasoline and driving my kids one hundred yards to school is ridiculous, but I do it on those occasional mornings. I put on my sunglasses, smile and wave gamely to the crossing guards, and get the hell back home before anyone notices (not that they care, but before they notice) how truly awful I look.

So WHY, I ask again, is it THOSE mornings, (THIS morning, to be exact) when I arrive back home three minutes later, hair askew, pajama top still on, and wearing house-slippers, that my daughter calls to tell me she left her glasses at home and can I please bring them back to the school???

18 comments:

Anonymous said...

Torture, pure torture!

Goddess said...

For me, I work in the office three times a week (which is a half hour drive from home) and two days a week I work at home (which is two blocks from the school). I get the call from my daughter that she has forgotten something ONLY on the days that I work in the office, so I get to drive all the way back home and back to the office, losing about an hour and a half of my work day by the time it's all said and done. I notice she NEVER forgets anything on the days I'm at home and can hop over in a couple of minutes.

Anonymous said...

Because that's the way life goes. It's like the one time you go to Target and you're wearing old crappy clothes, no makeup (or yesterday's)and your hair looks like Phyllis Diller. That's the day that you notice the old boyfriend that you haven't seen since you were young, skinny and childless. As you're trying to scream quietly at your kids who can't leave each other along for two minutes, for God's sake!!!
Just go into the office in your pj's, we have parents do that all the time at my school. Hell, I've even done it when I had to bring breakfast to daughter's swim team at 6 am.
Sheila in MN

Enginerd said...

tell her "tough."
She should have to suffer through the day, bad grades and all squinting and so forth and so on.

tough love.

but I don't have kids, and suffer from PTSD from this exact thing. Thanks, Dad.

Anonymous said...

As per usual, LOL Kristie... It's Murphy's Law.... the same one that dictates that my usually healthy kid gets a 102 fever a day before her birthday celebration weekend......

Anonymous said...

If I recall correctly, you are a Quik addict like me. If they could make a Quik flavored coffee, I might be in, until then, chocolate milk in the a.m. (oh, and p.m too!) is mandantory.

Your day can only get better! :)

Anonymous said...

Murphy's Law, my friend.
Meg
Milford, CT

Anonymous said...

Ah yes, this is a teaching moment for your daughter. Honey you will just need to scoot your desk up right in front of the board. Next time you will remember those glasses.

The Traveling Yogi said...

I think the kids do it on purpose (hey, mom didn't shower this morning - let's forget something so she'll have to bring it to school). It's a conspiracy.

Musings from Me said...

I am so with you on this one...kind of a Murphy's law situation. I always meet someone I know at school or at the grocery store when I look my worst. I had a neighbor come to my house and drop off PTA stuff. It was 1 p.m. and I was in pajamas. I stood talking to her for about 10 minutes trying to hold the PTA papers up to my chest, so she wouldn't notice I was not wearing a bra. Insanity, I tell you.

Unknown said...

It's a conspiracy.

Anonymous said...

And I pegged you to be a morning Diet Dr. Pepper kind of girl!! Good luck Kristie! I feel your pain...every day!
Claire in TX

Anonymous said...

Seriously cracking up over here.......you are TOO funny!

Julie
PA

Stacia said...

I had to laugh out loud at that one.
Now you know better that children do this to us on purpose.
I hope you were able to freshen up a bit before you returned with the glasses. ;-)
The rest of your day was terrific though right?

Anonymous said...

You know, though...the office ladies, teachers, and the other parents all know how you feel. They all know what it's like to be caught in their jammies with bed-head, so they were all probably totally empathizing.

Right?

Although, wow. I bet you felt uncomfortable! Ha! :)

(It's happened to me, too.)

Karen said...

Well you are a better Mom than me. When my very forgetful oldest daughter calls me because she forgot something she has to do without. This has really improved her memory.
I refuse to go into the school looking like that.

Anonymous said...

My husband turns 50 today and I wanted to let you know that I not only copied your idea from your anniversary last year and adapted it to "50 Things I Love About Greg", but I actually literally COPIED some of the lines as I they were perfect! My personal favorite is the "I love that you think you are good with names, when in reality, you are terrible with names" Tee hee....I can't wait until he reads it tonight! We continue praying for Blaine and for wisdom for his docs....
Have a great weekend!!

Anonymous said...

Oops....okay to be "anonymous" as long as I sign my name.

It's Mary -- the list plagiarizer (if that's even a word!) :)