Friday Morning

This week I think we've finally gotten the routine down (knock wood). The last tantrum was Saturday night--it was a doozy, but we haven't had one since (KNOCK WOOD). S was home Friday night, Saturday, and Tuesday, and that definitely made a difference. M has quit swim team, for now, and that has made a huge difference.

I no longer attempt bedtime starting at 8; instead we go to bed when the evening is over: when the kitchen is clean and the homework is done and the clarinet is practiced and there has been a bit of relaxing and I can just say "ok, time for bed," rather than "Come ON. Hurry UP. It's TIME FOR BED!" E is still usually down by 9 and M by 9:15 or 9:30 at the latest, and neither seems the worse for wear. E doesn't fall asleep during nap at school, and while M is her usual grumpy self in the morning, once she's had her oatmeal and hot chocolate, she's good to go for as long as we let her keep going (that girl is going to be a total coffee addict some day).

S has been home in the mornings for a while now, so he does breakfasts and lunches while I get to go running or take a shower and get dressed in my own sweet time. I don't need to kick in till about 7:45, when I dress E, make sure everyone has what they need, and participate in the general departure. Then S walks M to her school, I drive E to her school, and we are all off on our respective days.

But then Friday morning arrives. S goes in early on Friday, before we wake up. This is good because it means he's home Friday night. This is bad because it means that after four days of not worrying about the morning, Friday morning is all mine to worry about. And I tend to screw it up. I get up too late. I get the girls up too late. I don't know what goes in the lunches. I'm making breakfasts and lunches at the same time and I forget to make the hot chocolate, so M is still drinking the hot chocolate when it's time to be brushing hair and putting on shoes, which is when I'm getting E dressed so I don't notice that she hasn't brushed hair and put on shoes. We're inevitably running out the door, and M is annoyed that she's not getting her usual walk to school with S. Ugh.

But--we're making progress, really, we are--at least this week I didn't yell.