Mornings are NOT for the faint-hearted!!

After enduring a week of having The Other One home due to injuring herself I was relishing the idea of her return to school.  Anxiously awaiting bedtime to arrive on Sunday night.  "School tomorrow!!' I announce to no one and everyone at once.  I couldn't contain my excitement. 

You see, on Monday, The Other One managed to fall down the stairs at school and cause herself such terrible injury that she was not able to attend school for the duration of the week.  Having children is a blessing.  I'm sure that I read that somewhere.  Sadly, I can't find the supporting facts to prove this statement.  My two girls fight like cats and dogs.  From the moment they awake and lay eyes on one another there is a battle royale.  It has even gone so far that my 4-year-old REFUSES to sleep in the same bedroom as her 9-year-old sister.  In a two bedroom apartment that doesn't leave many other options.  So, it's Sofa City Sweetheart for The Little One. 

Come Monday morning, I woke up with bright eyes and a bushy tail (I'm really loving cliches today).  I dart to the restroom to relieve myself  smiling all the while.  I enter the devil's lair and turn on the light. 

Me:  "Good morning. Back to school today!!!  LET'S GOOOO!!"  

The Other One:  -grunt, muffled sounds, grunt -"Three more minutes?"

Me:  "Oh noooo... you were in bed @ 8!  Let's go!"

I leave the pit of despair to embark on lunch duty.  I proceed to make a sandwich while whistling and smiling the whole time.  I glance at the clock only to realize that she is still in bed!!! 

Me:  "Come on... do I have to yank you out of bed??  Let's go!!"

The Other One:  "I'm UP!!!  I'm just thinking!"

Me:  "Can't you think while STANDING and getting DRESSED?!!"

After a fit that would rival an epileptic seizure and a bit of screaming that I am a horrible mother she finally rolls out of bed.  "Yay!!"  I think to myself.

Back to my lunch duty......    Where was I ?   Oh, that's right.... whistling and smiling!!

FINALLY -  the demon spawn that I call my child emerges from the pit wearing what I consider a clown costume but she calls FASHION!  I casually mention that the leggings she chose to wear don't really look .....nice.  She stomps off to her room to find something else.  I believe there were more rantings about hating me or bad mom.  Not too sure, but it's generally true. 

A bowl of cereal for breakfast that she doesn't finish.  I don't know where she thinks we come up with the funding to feed them but apparently we find it under the floor boards and just miraculously make the food appear.  GAH!!!   Two pair of socks to protect her injured ankle.  I point out that she left two pair of shoes at school.  Socks removed.  Did I mention that it was -4 degrees C outside that morning?  Oh, she's immune to the cold.  Which totally surprises me considering we are FROM FLORIDA!!!  

All the whistling and smiling have dissipated.  Now I am muttering things under my breath that include "why did I ever want children?  Does it have to be this hard?  Why me?"

She comes out of the bathroom announcing that she's ready to go and starts to put on her coat.  I notice that her dread locks from a week of not brushing her hair are sticking out from under her hood. 

ME:  "Are you going to brush your hair?"

T.O.O:  "I did.... I SWEAR!!!!" 

I decide to test this theory by running my fingers through her hair.  Oops.... My fingers are now attached to her head.  Crap!! I send her back to try again.  She didn't go without some stomping and yelling.   Round Two -  Less dread locks but definitely NOT brushed!!   Round Three:  Better, but still not brushed.  I gave up the fight.  She won that battle but I will win the war. 

7:20 a.m. and I am giddy.  I begin ushering her out the door with my two bags of garbage.  "Let's go, let's go, let's go!!" 

T.O.O:  "I have to say good bye to Daddy!!"

ME: (internally) Crap!!!! 

Eventually we make it to the bus stop where she proceeds to tell me that her conscience is the DEVIL and he is always telling her to do bad things.  I know this should concern me but I don't believe a word that comes out of her mouth.  Every morning is an adventure.  I don't really know what to expect.  I should invest in some riot gear and go in there full force to drag her out of bed.  I'd like to see her win that battle. 

By the time I return home from the morning endeavors I am exhausted.  Usually by then, The Little One is just coming out of her slumber.   Let the day begin. 

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Today is Tuesday and I chose to avoid some major confrontations this morning regarding hair and wardrobe.  Choose your battles.... That, and the fact that she yelled "Just leave me alone!!"  and I was so pissed off that I was afraid to say another word without ripping off her head! 

Ah, the joys of parenting!!!