And so began a new day. Today was actually the last day of school for Luke. I awoke to the blah,blah,blah of sports radio (of all things!), which my husband had set for me before leaving for work. Would it be too much to ask to be awoken to someone playing the harp? Or maybe a beautiful angel stroking my hair and whispering time to wake up? I would want the beautiful angel to leave promptly after I got out of bed, though. I’m not looking to make breakfast for an extra person (entity?). My two little bosses wake up and submit their breakfast orders each morning as soon as their sparkly eyes open. Madeleine’s request was a flosser and her My Little Pony toothpaste. To eat?
Luke still wanders into our bed every night so we woke up next to each other, although the sports radio cacophony didn’t appear to interrupt what looked like a funny dream he was having. He was giggling and mumbling something but clearly still asleep. He opened his big, blue eyes.
I asked, “Did you have a funny dream, Buddy?”
He rubbed his eyes and realized he was awake, “I was feeding Cookie Monster guacamole. Then I punched him!” This made him laugh hysterically.
(It’s important to note that Luke, while delicious in thousands of ways, tends to be kinda sensitive and had I replied Oh, punching isn’t very nice, it may have thrown him off course for the entire morning. He may have taken that to mean I didn’t like his dream or him or that I was taking Cookie Monster’s side in the matter. Who knows! So instead I just said, “Oh, what a funny dream!“)
Since Madeleine had a fever last night, I took her temperature when she woke up.
“Does anything hurt you?”
She looked at me with a slight smile, “My butt,”
I guess if someone had a probe in my butt, I’d say the same thing. Luckily, no fever this morning.
The first thing I realized after getting all of us out of bed (myself being the most difficult) was that I’d left my cell phone on vibrate and my husband had already called and texted me around 6:30am to see if it was ok if the air conditioner guy came over this morning. At 7am. Hmmm….let me think about that. No! I’m in my underwear with smooshed-in-wake-up-face and my teeth aren’t even brushed. I text back, “Absolutely not” but I wanted to write Are you insane today, darling?
We were running late and since this was the last day of school, I wanted to be on time. I packed Luke’s famous snack for school – oyster crackers and blackberries. The fruit choice fluctuates but his teacher informed me that when I fail to send him with oyster crackers it’s a real issue. In the meantime, Luke was dragging his very large, very heavy basket of trains into the living room to begin his reenactment of one of the many Thomas the Tank Engine shows. Oh no. I could clairvoyantly hear the crash of trains hitting the floor before he even dumped the basket out. I cringe a little every time. Why, you ask? Because it means yet another thing to clean up, and the day had only just begun.
I definitely needed coffee at that point. The percolator had just finished bubbling. The intoxicating, earthy aroma of the morning’s first cup of joe filled the kitchen. Ahhhhh….heaven. I poured coffee into my mug. The mug. One of a pair of mugs my husband and I bought at the inn we stayed at when we honeymooned in Mendocino, California – Brewery Gulch Inn (more on this when I blab on California on another post. I do love California.) The mug was mere millimeters from my lips and then…
“Mom! I need a tissue!” Luke shouted from the living room.
Madeleine’s hand was suddenly wrapped around my leg, “I want choc-ee miwk, Mom. Mommy, I want choc-ee miwk. Mommy? Mom?”
This repetitive requesting of chocolate milk can go on indefinitely if I don’t respond immediately. Next comes the enunciating of each word in the request, followed by simultaneous enunciating and stomping of feet. And yes, she’s only two.
One tissue, check. One sippy cup of chocolate milk, check. One clean nose. One satisified toddler.
In summary, we did get out the door and into the car with little drama (which is unusual). Maybe it was because I was calmer than normal, seeing as how it was the last day of school and now we can shake loose of a schedule for a while.
Changing the subject completely, I’ll add this one thing. I went to pick up take-out tonight for my husband and me, once our little darlings were tucked into bed. The girl behind the counter at the restaurant looked to be in her early 20s. When my order was ready she called me…Ma’am. She was perfectly delightful and very polite but all I could hear was My, your fine lines are looking especially prominent this evening. Not that I haven’t used Ma’am to address another woman every so often, I certainly have. And not that there’s anything wrong with the word itself. I just don’t think I’m ready for Ma’am. So my proposal is that we ladies give the boot to the usage of Ma’am, as well as that dumb rule about not wearing summer whites before Memorial Day or after Labor Day. What if it’s a hot day in April and I feel like strolling around in a pair of crisp, white skinny jeans? I’d like the option, thankyouverymuch.
By for now.