Motherly Monday Morning...

Naturally, on weekend mornings those little rodents are up stirring by 5:00 or 6:00am. The T.V. over your bed has cartoons on volume 37, and they're wide awake, already crumbling pop tars all over your bed sheets and simultaneously asking, "What's for breakfast?" All while driving a pair of knees into your back, stripping you of your covers, and telling you how bad your breath is, until you finally wake to meet their every need.

So, why is it on school days, the only thing that gets their, pissed the bed, little pants moving, is the already passing bus, honking and slamming back into gear? I'm quite sure our bus driver knows, there aren't any children from this house, ever on her bus on Monday mornings, but stops and causes scene, for sole purpose of resulting as our alarm clock.

Moments after over-sleeping, who doesn't need a good push of blood through their motherly veins on a slow moving, school morning? Today, that push was the rock flying through my living room window before 8:00am... no, not from the flying of lawn mower debris or most commonly, thrown from the outside...rather, released from the hand of a two year-old, from the inside of the house.

Yep, that's what we do; Our kids bug the piss out of us for an eternity of minutes, and so we follow with, "whatever, whatever, I don't care.." and there you have it, next thing you know; there are rocks inside the house. Covered in mud, rolled around the white carpet, and then hauled in a little tractor bucket to a new location, where you'll surely lose a toe nail after stubbing against it. And not little rocks for tucking into a small boy's pockets, then lost in the couch cushions...we're talking boulders! Better for hurting a sibling and busting right through the frick'n glass!

After asking Ashlyn, my most reliant news broadcaster, here's what I know... The lazy 8 year-old told his little brother to get him the remote, and when he refused... The lazy boy shouted, "Coyotes will come in and eat you if you don't get it now!" Then, the small beast started whipping rocks, as well as that said remote, at the window for protection...
...awesome narration by my four year-old!

Needless to say, the morning was like walking on glass for my children, and they were on their best behavior...lasting about five minutes in total... until I had to drag Ashlyn around by the half-finished hair braid, each time interrupted by screaming and fighting boys in the other room, or my sighting of another frick'n rock I had to go immediately whip out the door.

I choose to feed the kids breakfast instead of take time for dealing with my matted hair tangled around some one's tooth brush, or change out of my p.j's and put on a bra. (not the first time, of coarse)

Miraculously, Ashlyn was willing to put on the first pair of shoes thrown to her at the floor, Coldyn tied his own laces without the usual whines, and they were waiting at the door, along with the dog begging to go out.  
"Guys, let the dog out!"

Signing agendas. Packing lunches with attempts of (slightly green) ham sandwiches...sniff, sniff, look at date, ugh! Feed ham to dog. Scrape the mayo off the bread, disguise with fluff, add p.b...  "Let the dog out!" 
Kids fighting, sneaking crap into their book bags, and not hearing a word...

Finally, grab the child by the jaw, leaving behind fluff stickiness, to wipe with my finger until turned red, and naturally, lick when finished. Continue by attempting to scream at him for not listening, but mouth so filled of dry sandwich crust cuttings, nothing comes out other than, what looks of a wad of chewed insulation..

Calmly swallow, then frantically scream, clinching teeth, "Why aren't you listening to me? I told you LET THE DOG OUT!"

Child insists back, "We were ignoring you cuz' the dog doesn't even need to go out, duh... she peed in front of the door like 5 minutes ago and went back to bed!" ...Pissed again, and so is Mama!

Late again, and no time for putting shoes on the toddler, obviously his socks were soaked in dog pee by now anyhow, and already scattered across the floors...put a hat on his head and swoop him under your arm as he is!

Now, launching at least 80mph down the pot hole-stricken driveway, twice...now, this time remembering library books. I wasn't even to the road, and was already hunched over the edge of my seat with neck stretched, chewing out my rear-view mirror.

"Read her the damn book!"
Yes, library leases are always one week in length, but never read until the last frantic moments before returning, motherhood knowings #1,276!

"Can't, I'm playing my DS!"
Swatting at air in the backseat, hoping for contact... Driving through the marbles on the side of the road, then up and out of the ditch, with weeds whipping down the side of my car... ha snatched the DS! 

"NNOOOOOOOOOOOO!"  ...oh yes I did, shut the game off... reason #364 of "Why I hate my mother" Ending a level 9 game in progress, without pausing!

By this time, I'm hanging off the steering wheel like a chin up bar, and so far up on the seat edge, you'd think there was a beach ball wedged between my back. Creeping closer, and closer to the mirror, like I was getting in his face...not nearly as effective as grabbing by the jaw, but slightly safer that turning around while driving 65mph. So intensely continuing, I'm having to wipe the stray crust spitting's and breath steam off the rear-view with my sleeve, "LOOK at me when I'm talking to you!"

The poor child had no clue whether to stare at the back of my seat and head, or to catch glimpse of my eyes in the smoggy  mirror, or simply just keep his eyes bugged straight forward as we were nearly rear-ending the garbage truck.
"Why do I have to read it?" He whined.

"Well...because it has to go back in minutes... I'm not reading it while driving (did that once! Illegal to text and drive, but not to read a 36 page, over-due library book), and third so when I "x" your book log tonight I'm not lying this damn time!

Nearly to school, the book was read, and I'd almost calmed to the sound of my kids reading together...
Then, I remembered of the shattered glass and piss sopped rug waiting at home, well that, and the fact that the morning of starting your period was nearly Mad Cow disease stricken, anyhow...

Now pulling into school; No way am I chasing a toddler with no shoes, and myself without a bra, through 3,ooo freshly bus-released elementary kids, currently jived on a breakfast of marshmallows picked from Lucky Charms! 

So instead, I give it to Coldyn, "Now you take your sister to her room! Don't ditch her at the entrance, or push her away, or leave her by the door... Tell her teacher good-morning, and then no stopping along the way...no, not even for a drink, and you quickly get your ass to your locker, mister!" All in one flowing breath, from chew-out, down to calm mommy loving softness, "Ok? I love you! Have a good day kids, bye buddy. Sissy you look so cute! Love you!"

Well, she ought to look cute... You're in yesterday's shirt and pj. bottoms yet, spent 35 minutes picking her an outfit. And another 20min. perfectly assembling every hair on her head, as your's looks of housing a weasel...and thus the reason, for having scrapped the shit off your teeth with a foil gum wrapper from the floor of the car, because of no time to brush.

Deep breath! Speed away... now just you and the rock-slinger, until noon...when you peel to the end of the driveway, for the already waiting, Pre-school bus!
"Bite me bus driver!"

"Hi...how was your day, Sissy?" (soft mommy love)