It’s time to resume writing. Surely the blog-drought has gone on long enough. This morning one of my children snuggled into my comfy computer chair, pulled up the blog website and looked at me sadly,
“Still no blog, Mom?” There was a mixture of pity and worry written on his face.
“I know, I know,” I retorted just a wee bit sharply, “I didn’t do the dishes last night either, you wanna talk about that as well?”
This was the extent of our internet while out of town, stealing wireless connection from the neighbors.
There’s nothing quite like a frantic mother of five trying to get to homeschool co-op on time, early in the morning. A co-op in which she’s teaching three classes AND giving the opening announcements. Today was a typical example of the harried, over-committed homeschooling family. I rushed around barking out helpful comments:
Does everyone have a lunch made?
What about art supplies, pencils, notebooks?
Backpacks? Mom’s lunch? Can somebody fix me a quick salad?
I NEED coffee, make-up and a hair dryer!!
The kids stumbled over one another trying to make sandwiches, find lunch bags, sharpen pencils, and load everything into the car. Joshua (who rose at the crack of dawn and was smugly finished with all of his preparations) now loomed menacingly, threatening anyone who causes us to be late.
That would usually be me.
“Joshua, can I please just dry my hair really quick before we go?” I found myself pleading. “Listen, I’ll finish my make-up in the van (at stop lights only, of course) if you’ll pour my coffee and give me two minutes to do my hair.”
There’s nothing like bargaining with a teenager for a few precious minutes of personal grooming to keep you humble. Today I tried to even the scales a little by requiring him to heat and froth my milk before he adds it to the coffee.
Just to be sure he knows who’s boss.
Finally, everything was loaded into the van, children were clothed (always a good thing), lunches assembled and packed, my assortment of media equipment was carefully organized, and at least TWO mugs of coffee filled the drink holders: we were ready to set off.
“Um, kids,” I began in a wheedling voice as we pulled out of the driveway, wincing just a little at what was coming. “I need to make one quick stop on the way. Before you say anything,” I rushed on, “I think I can get everything at the drug store (on the way) rather than making a side trip to Target.”
By now his face was grimly set and Joshua was resigned to his fate.
“Hey, you can come in with me and help me pick out the candy,” I offered, trying to soften the blow.
“Okay,” he agreed, “but only because it means I can
shove you along keep you from lingering.”
It’s so hard to get any respect around here as a slow moving, non morning person.
Side Note: Even with all that preparation (the children weren’t the only early risers today, I got up at 6:15 am myself), Tim still had to come by the co-op and bring me some things I forgot. How nice that he works from home on Fridays.
Maybe they should offer bowling at co-op.