Member Blogs

We are a one car family. Which is great for the environment and our perpetually empty bank account, but it kind of, okay, really sucks. But we make do. My husband car pools to work a couple days a week and I make arrangements to have all the doctor appointments, errands, etc. fall on the days I have the car. Our son started kindergarten this year and although there is an option to bus, I decide we will walk to school! First of all, the school is fairly close. Second, I'm not ready for him to take the bus. Okay, I said it. Sometimes I'm "that mom." Lastly, I see this as my opportunity to finally get the exercise I really, really need. Here are the facts, folks. There's a lot of jelly in this belly and I'm fairly certain my muscles have started to seize.

So all of this walking crap is great. Except I get up at the ass crack of dawn to settle in at my dining room table to work. Which means, walking or not, I have to come up for air and stop working to give us time to get ready and enjoy the morning. A task I am almost completely physically and mentally incapable of doing.

Fast forward to this morning, me screaming at people to get ready. The baby is screaming and throwing food. The boy wining about not being able to get his sweatshirt on and OMG a sweatshirt AND a jacket is SO uncomfortable! Yeah, he really said OMG. We finally get out the door and literally start running to school. We try to make it fun by playing red light green light, tag, and whatever else, but it's just not working out to be a happy time. There is no bouncing back. I'm apologizing profusely and promising better mornings to come. The boy is reminding me of slip-ups from the past, which is quite frankly making me want to turn around and make him walk the rest of the way himself.

Finally, we get there. The teacher's aids are all like, "hey, wow, look at your red cheeks from the cold!" And we are all like, "and yeah, the running!" hehehehawhawhaw. So I say to my kid, "don't forget to tell your teacher I put money in your folder for ice cream Friday!"

So the teachers at the door are all like, "yeah, we serve ice cream on Thursdays." Me, kind of arguing a little, "I'm sure it said on the note that came home that ice cream is served on Friday." I mean, come on, shouldn't Friday be treat day? Sheesh.