I knew the honeymoon wouldn’t last forever. The morning shitshow has started, but now there are two stars of that show versus the one that I’ve been dealing with for the last few years. It’s so wonderful to have both girls in big-kid school.
It is my feeling that we are all old enough and big enough to get ourselves ready for the day. I allow the girls to choose their own outfits, I simply ask that they adhere to their schools' dress codes… meaning “cover the important stuff.” I allow them to make their own choices for several reasons. First, when they look back at pictures of how they look I can say, “That was all you, baby!” And second, I imagine that I will not be involved in any drama in the morning.
The only rule I really have is that you can’t wear the same thing more than once in a week. I know this goes back to my own childhood… I just don’t want anyone making fun of my girls for being poor and only having one shirt. We know kids can be cruel so I try to save them from commentary any way I can.
When I got home on Monday, Spice was wearing her monkey cupcake shirt (technical term). Because I had been gone, I immediately did several loads of laundry. The monkey cupcake shirt was washed and put away. Wednesday morning, Spice wants help choosing an outfit. We picked one out and I went off to make lunches and breakfast. She appears wearing the monkey cupcake shirt. I told her, “You wore that already this week, you can’t wear it again today.” She stomped off to change but still didn’t wear the outfit she insisted I help her pick out.
Then this morning, I’m doing my hair and she’s at the bottom of the stairs, “Hey Mama, can I wear the monkey cupcake shirt?” OMG, REALLY?!?! Step away from the fucking monkey cupcake shirt, Spice! I knew I would somehow be punished for doing the laundry during the week.
Meanwhile, I was a bit late getting Sugar up. It’s been nice this year that she takes a shower every day. For the first time EVER, I don’t have to lecture her about having a dirty face at the bus stop. Every. Single. Day.
Anyway, I got her up and apologized for being late then headed off to finish putting myself together. There I was, blow drying my hair upside down (still waiting for the volume and lift that procedure promises) and I see feet. Sugar feet. Unshowered Sugar feet. I stood up and asked her what was the matter.
Sugar: Can I fill this out? [As she’s shoving her iPod in my face]
Me: What is it?
Sugar: It’s a survey. Can I fill it out? It’s really important. They picked me!
Me: No, I don’t know who it’s from. And hey, haven’t you showered?
Sugar: Well, just because I do, doesn’t mean I have to shower every day. Can I fill out the survey?
Me: No. I don’t know who it’s from. Go get ready for school.
Sugar: It’s from The Weather Channel. Can I fill it out?
I scowled and gave her the look that said, “Run fast before Mama loses her shit.”
Now I’m in the kitchen, lunches and breakfast in process when EN comes out to “help.” Mind you, lunches and breakfast were his jobs so I had help in the morning. As is typical, he wandered off. So I followed to ask if he’s heard all the morning drama. I told him about the survey and he laughed in my face. In fact, he giggled because Sugar’s ability to drive her mother nuts is nothing short of hilarious.
So I sprayed him with my perfume. If nothing else, when he’s sitting around contemplating all he has to do for the 17th day in a row, he will smell me.
Back to the kitchen and cereal is poured. Spice showed up in pants that fit her last year. I mentioned that and she said she didn’t care, she was comfortable. Then I said, “We still need to brush your hair.” She said, “No I put a headband in, it’s good.”
At that, I had enough. I grabbed my purse, gave kisses goodbye and headed out the door.
I’m sure we’ll do this all again tomorrow.