Today is Leap Year, Sadie Hawkins AND Leap Blog Day!! Today is the day where many of us writers have committed to swapping sites with each other and have written for another blog! My guest blogger today is Jen Palis of High Heels and Dirty Dishes who oversees her family up in Missouri – you know.. where they have a little town called Branson and where the Rooster and I had our last romantic getaway!  Enjoy Jen’s post and make sure you head over to her spot to read my post as well as bookmark HH&DD for more reading later!

 

The morning rush at our house revolves around getting my first-grader, Mia, ready for school and onto the bus and then getting myself ready in the half hour that’s left before I have to leave for work.

We wake up, rush like our home is a really comfortable boot camp, and for the most part we scrape by just in time to get a coat on before the bus pulls up. I wish so badly that I could be the mom who plans ahead for the next morning, but I can’t seem to pull it together. We scramble and the rush usually works for us.

Every once in awhile though, something goes awry and Mommy gets pissy. I know that the inconvenience is  nobody’s fault other than my own due to lack of preparation, but it still causes my patience to wear thin with my daughter. I get frustrated, she gets frustrated, we bicker and then make up with a sincere “I love you” before she leaves for school.

Last week, we had one of those mornings. It started off just fine: we didn’t oversleep, showers were taken in record time, and I’d even mentally planned out Mia’s outfit the night before. Feeling good about my mothering abilities, I left her to get herself dressed and headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee with a breezy “Hurry Sis, and bring your black flats with you when you’re dressed! Get the ones with the bows on them, not the old ones with the scuff marks!”

Ten minutes later, Sister comes strolling out- carrying the $2 the Tooth Fairy had left her the night before. Though that grin minus the two front teeth was absolutely adorable, she didn’t have the black flats. “Sissy where are your shoes? I’ll go get them while you finish your math homework.” and her reply, of course, was “I don’t know… I couldn’t find them…” (If someone knows the secret to getting kids to actually look for things, please share it. You’re likely to get a Peace Prize out of the deal.)

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Slightly annoyed, I set off in search of the black flats. One was right in front of her bedroom door. The other, was nowhere to be found. By the time I gave up looking for the missing shoe, we had 10 minutes until the bus was due and I snatched up her black Chuck Taylors as fill ins.

“Mia how many times have I told you not to put your shoes in the toy boxes? We’re going to have to wear the sneakers now because I don’t have time to dump out all of the toys and hunt for the flats. Where are your socks – I’ll put your shoes on while you eat breakfast.” My angel girl looked at me like I was ridiculous and replied “I didn’t get socks. You said I was wearing flats, Mommy.”

Grumble grumble grumble… Raise your hand if you’re a rebel like me who doesn’t match socks, choosing instead to just throw them into the designated ‘sock basket’. Yeah, that’s helpful when you’re in a rush.

Socks found, I headed back to the kitchen to put on the high tops. Mia’s been working on tying her own shoes lately. At some point during her practice, she also thought it’d be cool to learn to re-lace the shoes too. Well, she re-laced those suckers with one end of the shoestring at the bottom and the other at the top.

Half way through re-lacing the first shoe, I heard the school bus coming down the street. I made a mad dash to the bedroom and grabbed Mia’s old scuffed up black flats and told her to put them on. “Mom! I can’t wear these! They hurt my feet so bad!”

My response was something along the lines of “Tough luck, chickie! I can’t find your other ones and you’ve done screwed up the laces on the sneakers. Mommy doesn’t have time to drive you to school today, so you’re just going to have to deal with it. Maybe you’ll stop putting your shoes in the toy box now!” I gave her a quick kiss, told her I loved her, and sent her down to the bus.

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Fast forward to that afternoon, Mia comes home with a pair of pink and green tennis shoes on. “I was getting a blister so the nurse gave me these to wear for the rest of the day. Mommy, I wear a size 2, not a size 12 1/2 so how ’bout we don’t wear those old black flats again?”

And then, friends, I hung my head in shame as it hit me: we bought the new flats not because the others were scuffed up, but because my daughter’s feet had grown too big to fit into them comfortably.

With a silent prayer, I asked my little girl what she’d said to the school nurse about the too small shoes. “Well, I told her that you made me wear them because you were mad at me this morning.”

Of course you did, child.

 

Thank you, Jen for a great post and for reminding us that these mornings happen in ALL of our households!! 

Kristen