2ND Monday

Someone wise once said, "It's not the first day of school that's a problem.  It's not even the first Monday after the first day of school.  It's actually the second Monday after the first day of school that totally sucks!"

Oh yeah, that was me. 

Another school year started 18 days ago.  It started on a Thursday which remains a mystery to me.  Why do they tease me with the promise of school starting and then give them back to me a mere two days later?  I've had them all summer for God's sake, and you have "ease into the school year?"

The first Monday that they have to wake up and go can be painful, but there is still a bit of excitement in the air.  The kids are anxious to ensure their new agendas are signed, the first page of the crisp clean notebooks have a very neat homework assignment done, and even the boys are somewhat concerned with what they wear.  Heck, they allow me to comb their hair.

However, the second Monday is where it all goes downhill!  For example:

Child #1 who always gets up at 5:30 with no help from me or anyone else, overslept.  It was not until 6:15, when Child # 2 came in to tell me she needed a clean PE shirt, that it was mentioned she had yet to see Child #1. The silent kitchen radio being a dead giveaway.  Up to the third floor to make her rise.

Child #3 who had asked Child #2 to wake her up at 6:30 was now negotiating a 6:50 wake up time with me as Child #2 said that was too close to her bus time to be responsible for her younger sister.

#'s 4 & 5 remained in my bed, which is where children whose father is gone for the year and whose mother is too tired to send them back to bed when they not so stealthily migrate in during the night get to sleep.  6:55 and I am using all my strength to try to rouse #4 because nothing I seem to do phases him.  I catch my breath as I realize that, despite the high wattage light bulb over their heads and my high school cheerleader voice, child #5 has not even furrowed his brow.  (This is the look which usually precedes "I'm not going!")  I reach over to make sure he is breathing.  Yes, movement of the ribs...we are in business.  There is a groan from #4 and I think, "Cool, five for five- we have all survived to see another day!"

I am carrying #5 down the stairs to get him dressed as sometimes the sound of Sponge Bob on the TV is the only thing that will get him to open his eyes, when I notice #1 on her way into the bathroom in a towel.  Wait, what?  Her bus is coming in 15 minutes!!! 

"What are you doing?"

"Taking a shower, why?"  Okay, we are so past that obvious answer I almost roll #5 down the stairs to wake him up so I can lift my hands in an 'are you kidding me?' gesture.

"The bus comes in 15 minutes."

"I thought you said you'd drive me in."

Um, no, apparently I said that IN YOUR DREAM that you were enjoying until 1/2 hour ago.  And, what have you been doing for the last THIRTY MINUTES?  I can shower and be out in less than 15 if I need to be.

Sigh. Fine. It'll make me get dressed. I'll just put on clothes for the gym and will be forced to go by my own outfit.  The shame of being dressed for the gym without actually having gone to the gym is more guilt than this Catholic can handle.

Go down to tell #2 that #1 is getting a ride to school.  Right on cue comes the "That's not fair!" followed by, "Can you go out and look for the bus, because #1 always tells me when it's coming and do you have any tape so I can put this birthday sign on so and so's locker?"   Out to the porch I go after unearthing a roll of scotch tape that has not seen the light of day in 37 months. 

#2 comes out the door just as the bus is headed up the street.  Off with a quick kiss and back in to find that #3 is ready.  Grouchy, but ready.  It is best to just not make eye contact with that one in the morning.  #5 has a shirt on, but nothing else and is yelling at the computer because Club Penguin will not let him play any games.  I get him off the chair, which causes #3 to announce that she will never sit there again, and get him dressed while he continues to argue with the monitor.  #4, who requested to be "left alone to get dressed in private," because everyone seems to be so respecting of MY privacy around here, has emerged.

My phone buzzes with a text from anxiety ridden #2.  "The stuff I did for science homework yesterday was the wrong thing."  I shoot off a text assuring her that it will be okay.  Back and forth it goes until she is clear that a) I will email the teacher, b) the teacher will not be angry with her, and c) there is no reason to be scared!

#5 has finally agreed to eat a muffin top. We are all about the healthy breakfast around here.  Note that #5's behavior therapist is usually here by now to offer an extra set of hands, but he can't come today because of car trouble.

I turn to #4.

"Your oatmeal is on the table."

"What kind is this?"

"The kind you eat."

"No really."

"I don't remember. Maple and Brown Sugar I think."

"Where's the Dinosaur Oatmeal?"

"Apparently still at the commissary because no one wrote it on the list."

"Grunt!"

Surprisingly, at 8:33 #'s 3 and 4 were out the door having brushed their teeth even.  (That's a stellar day for #4)  #5 begrudgingly came along (after brushing his teeth too!) until he found a 7 foot branch that he drug to the bus stop.  Thankfully, the bus turned down the street before he took anyone's eyes out, but every girl gave him a wide girth as they obviously could see how easy the thing would've gotten tangled in their newly combed ponytails.

Bus closer, #5 puts on his noise reduction headphones and turns on his ipod.  The regular bus driver is back after a few sick days last week.  Alleluia!  Change does not bode well for #5.

They climb the steps as I yell a cheery "Have a great day!" to #5, a stern "Pay attention and don't talk too much!" to number #4 and a cautious "See you later!" to #3.

I chat with the other moms for a second and turn to the house to get dressed.  #1 is on the porch. 

"I'm ready."

"Okay, I need to get dressed and I'll be down in a minute."

"But Mooooooommmmmmm, the first bell just rang, can't you take me now?"

"Sure, but you better pray we aren't in an accident or get stopped by the MPs."

"Well, you're the one dressed like that!"

Breathe..................my hooded grey fuzzy bathrobe over an old flannel pajama top and non matching pj pants will have to do.  Do I need to mention the pants are navy blue with yellow ducks on them?  I know- so fun!  I also have on slides with my fuzzy fuchsia socks.  Pretty!

Off we go and are only one street over when I see a group of Moms chatting after their kids got on the bus.  Every one of them is dressed.  What a bunch of overachieving show-offs!  Thankful again that our new neighbors are not only normal, but not those "put together" type of moms that force me to hate them!

Continuing on to school I see the guys going to work.  A ton of them are riding bikes this year!  Looooonnnngggg wait while they cross by the golf course.  There are women out running, jogging, power walking, some with strollers or dogs or both.  Again I am forced to be annoyed by anyone who can conceivably be productive before 8am.

As I drive back to the house thanking the Lord that they are all tucked away for the next 7 hours, 'Margaritaville' comes on the radio.  This congers up a smile and memories of summers between college years spent with friends lounging by a pool or in a bar with nothing more to worry about besides how can we scrape together $5 to get one more pitcher!

I realize the guy in the car next to me has realized I'm in my bathrobe and I think. "Fine, laugh all you want in your cubicle asshole, because there was a time I was much cooler than you could ever hope to be!"