I’m not sure if it’s me, the kids, our stage of life, where we live, or what we do, but the Scroggins Five live in a spastic world.
Take this morning…
My husband had a meeting that required him to leave before 7, meaning the morning routine was in my hands. It seems to work so much better when it’s in both our hands. Besides, it wasn’t just a normal morning routine, we needed to be at school at 7:30 for my daughter to go caroling through the halls before classes started. I was prepared, and had myself all ready well before I even WOKE the children. I even remember slyly smiling to myself at my productivity. That must’ve been when the jinx occurred, because O MY GOODNESS I never stopped after that.
Here we go…
We had ZERO breakfast foods in the house. I’m not quite sure how that happened, but it made for a unique meal of apples, dry cheerios, and a Christmas cookie thrown in for effect. I know. I’m terrible for giving cookies at breakfast, but I already have that Mother of the Year trophy, right? In the meantime, there were wardrobe issues going on with my older two. I guess it’s wrong for me to require them to wear long sleeve clothing when it’s 27 DEGREES OUTSIDE. Maybe I should abandon that little battle. Finally, as everyone was dressed and moderately fed, they grabbed their respective bags to load up in the car. I had a little difficulty with my load because I was balancing all my Christmas cards and presents to mail. On top of that, my car was in the shop (getting EVERYTHING THAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG FIXED), so I had my mom’s car on loan. Nothing ever quite fits in someone else’s car the way it does in your own. Have you ever noticed that? So, I threw one kid in the front, another in the carseat (an older car seat my mom keeps in that car that I can never remember how to buckle!), and the other kid behind me. Whew. After a few sprints back and forth to the house (tripping over the cat who was yelling at me at her lack of food) to lower the thermostat, unplug the Christmas tree, and grab my Secret Santa gift, we were off-a few minutes late, but off nonetheless.
We even had time for a few “oooooooo-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas” leftover for the drive to town.
Except then I realized I’d forgotten my Diet Coke. Crap!!
At school, I ditched the bigger kids, and headed to the post office to do the Christmas Mailing. At that point, my phone dinged to remind me of a staff meeting starting in five minutes. Crap. Ya, that wasn’t going to happen. I quickly texted a fellow teacher friend hoping I just spazzed in my date inputting, but apparently I was on the ball at some point, and correctly entered the date. Crap again. I hate hate hate not being on the ball, but since my school was 40ish minutes away, and I still had one kid in tow, I had to just let that one go. So, we again focused on our post office errand. I figured I might as well get something off my list, and my three-year old is a grand helper both at the post office, and affixing stamps to letters. Those of you who receive my card, keep that in mind. After we accomplished the mailing task, we headed to his school, where I realized I’d forgotten his lunch. At home.
Now, you’d think this would be an easy fix, except that it just wasn’t at all. Remember I was in a borrowed car? Well, that car did not house my garage door opener, and (don’t gasp) I didn’t have a house key on hand-I blame the dealer for confiscating the keys along with my car. So, obviously, I was locked out of my house. As I sat in the parking lot trying to problem solve, I realized my in-laws should have a key to my house. I headed that direction only to find that my father-in-law did not have such a key. Crap. So, I did the only thing left to do. I went to my own house and broke in. I retrieved the lunch AND A DIET COKE, and headed back to the school. Here I had another dilemma, because I didn’t want my son to see me. If he did, he would assume school was over, and that would’ve been a complete other issue that frankly, at this point, I didn’t have the time or mental capacity to deal with. So, in my super-stealthy James Bond style, I crept along the halls and was overjoyed to see one of his teachers outside his classroom. Problem solved.
And yes, I could have gone to a grocery store for a lunchable or something, but that seemed just as hard to me and my brain at that point, and I was figured my son would rebel against anything not housed in his OFFICIAL lunchbox. Sometimes we Scroggins’s aren’t that great with MIXING THINGS UP. (Actually, it’s those other Scroggins’s, I’m just fine with it.)
At that point, I looked at the clock, and it was 8:45.
See what I mean??? Spastic. That’s the only word that makes sense here.