All in our places, with sunshiney faces....

I love mornings. Particularly fall mornings, all crisp and new, with long shadows and crunchy leaves that have blown off their bows overnight. I love packing Greta's lunch while both kids chat through breakfast in sleepy voices with their morning hair. And the coffee, the yummy strong coffee that I love. Most mornings flow smoothly from said breakfast into dressing, brushing, packing book bags, tying shoes, zipping jackets and so on. But there are always the exceptions, and this morning was one of them. It felt like we were lurching around in circles getting nothing done and stepping all over each other's toes in the process. I heard my voice annoyingly repeating orders over and over to deaf ears.

Simon protested breakfast and begged instead for the popcorn that I was popping for Greta's snack. Greta was sidetracked and even with reminders in groups of three ("please go upstairs, put on clean clothes for cool weather and brush your teeth") that usually keep her on track, she. moved. very. slowly. and came back downstairs not dressed or brushed ten minutes before we were set to leave for school.

Deep breaths. I know how tormented I feel when I lose my patience in the morning and send her off to school for the day.

Deep breaths. The phone was ringing. Simon was eating popcorn out of a paper lunch sack wearing nothing but blue socks. Greta was stomping up the stairs (very slowly mind you), and muttering something about "so mean, so, so mean", and I was breathing deeply when I spilled half the contents of a family size box of Cherrios on the floor while trying to snip off the box top for Greta to bring to school. Simon cheered and with squeals began to jump on the pile of breakfast cereal mashing it into crumbs with his socked feet.

Greta was back downstairs in a skirt and tee-shirt looking quite pleased with herself, when I reminded her that it was 33 degrees outside!!

We were all back upstairs, Greta stomping, Simon crying, and me throwing myself a little internal pity party. Through clenched teeth I breathed deeply and flew through Greta's bedroom setting out pants and sweater for her to wear and carried flailing Simon into his room to begin the wrestling match called getting him dressed. We were late. She was yelling at me, over Simon's wailing protest, about "stupid pants" and "stupid sweater". But soon, we were all dressed which was one step closer to putting the morning behind us. I ushered them into the bathroom to brush teeth and hair to the soundtrack of.....

"My stool Greta, move Greta"

"MOM, he hit me!"

"MOVE Greta, MOVE"

"MOOOOOM, Simon just spit toothpaste in my hair"

........ Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

Coats, hats, mittens, all of them the wrong ones, were struggled into, and we trailed out the door like a pack of mangy dogs, teary eyed, shoes on the wrong feet, and my precious coffee spilled all over the front of my shirt. We were not far from the dooryard when I remembered that it was library day at school. I quickly assessed whether or not I could bear the guilt if I didn't remind her that she had forgotten her books, nope, couldn't do it.

She ran and jumped back through the yard and up the stairs into the house where the door had been left wide open, yelling "I know just where they are..... I think..." I checked the time and decided that walking to school was no longer an option. She came back outside with her two library books falling out of her unzipped backpack to find me whisking Simon from wagon to car seat and scrambled into her booster. The gas light was on and Simon was loudly expressing his disappointment about the change of mode of transportation, but we were all dressed, lunch was packed, teeth were brushed and library books rescued.

By the time we reached school, I was aware of all of the aches in my neck from clenching and resisting the urge to yell at both of them and tell them how ungrateful they were acting. I resisted telling them how everything that I do, every. single. thing. is with their best interest in heart and mind, and when they act like this it makes me want to take all of their stupid pants and stupid sweaters to the Goodwill so that more deserving children could have them. The children who listen the first time, and don't have crushed Cheerios glued onto their socks.

Greta was trying to get out of the car, snapping me out of my in-head rant.

"Child lock Mom, child lock, the child lock's on, I can't get out Mom!!"

I hopped out of the car like her chauffeur (first cook, then maid, then chauffeur) opening her door and helping her don the straps of her over sized backpack. "Have a good day Mom", she said and then arched into tiptoes to kiss me, "And thanks for reminding me about my library books. Bye Simon!!" She blew a kiss through the window at her brother, and off she went.

Mysterious. Like a different species altogether than the one that had stomped around my house minutes ago. The tension in my back and neck faded as I watched her lope off toward school. Parenting is an all consuming, thankless job most times, but when there is a small gesture of appreciation it can adjust the tone of the day quickly. I changed my mind about taking all of her clothes to the Goodwill, after all, she is just a child, and headed home with Simon to rake up some of those crunchy leaves.