Preschool Mornings

Can someone please tell me I'm not the only one?!

This morning was hell a little crazy around our house.  Seriously.  Quick summary....

I woke up a half hour late (thank you Boo for crying all night, poor things gums are killing him).  Gator thought it would be fun to not listen to a word I said.  After being forced to listen, Gator thought doing things as slow as possible was a great idea.  Boo wouldn't wake up... refused... changed his diaper and had him fully dressed and he was still snoring.  Dante the doggie refused to go out in the rain.  Gator refused to sit still for me to put her hair up...

It was just one of those days. 

I strive to send Gator out the door every day with a smile.  I started this long ago when we would have Monkey (my *extra* child) to get off to school.  I can't see sending my Little's off to school knowing that they are already having a bad day... how could school go well then?

So this morning, as I pulled Gator from room to room in a desperate attempt to get her teeth brushed and her shoes tied and her put up, I cringed when I heard my own voice sounding... so... mean.  Was that me??  I'm not a yeller.  I'm not usually even a mean voice mommy.  But this morning I was at my breaking point... and there was no walking away to calm down... there was only a "get your backpack and get in the car right this second!  Stop poking your brother!  We're late!  Why did you take your lunch box out of your back pack?  Get in the car now, now, now!"

I almost cried after the kids were strapped in their carseats (and I had run back inside to retrieve my forgotten lifeline cell phone). 

As I pulled out of the driveway I looked over my shoulder at Gators miserable little face.  "Hey Gator, I love you." "I love you too, Momma."  "I'm sorry this morning was so crazy, and I'm sorry I had to get on to you."  Silence... "I wish I didn't have to get one to you... we'll have to try harder to help each other tomorrow morning, ok?"  Silence...

I let it go.  I turned up the music, I sang along, and I watched her little face.  A few minutes later, out of no where, a voice from the backseat began to sing along to the music as well.  When the song ended, she started to tell me about her day.  I heard about her new partner at school, and which centers she hoped to go to.  I heard about how excited she was to turn in her scarecrow project (which needs its own post).  And by the time we pulled into the school parking lot (and parked in the muddy grass because there were no spots left), she was her chatty self again. 

She skipped down the sidewalk, bounced into her classroom, and made her way to her seat with a smile.  We were late.  She didn't even care.  As I kissed and hugged her by SHE told ME to have a good day, and I laughed.  Oh how we are two different people!  At her age, this morning would have left me wounded all day long.  My Gator though, sometimes I think she's invincible.  And she always makes me smile.