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It’s Tuesday but it feels like Monday? Thursday? This is summer for us, a stay-at-home mom and a teacher. Days blend together. For the next eight weeks, my kids will go to their Mother’s Day Out program on Tuesday … and I’ll be lucky if I can remember it’s Tuesday and get them there.
For the second morning in a row, David has gotten up before 7, nursed and then had breakfast, played for a few minutes, and then started whining incessantly and gone back to sleep. I’m hoping to leave for storytime in 30 minutes and he’s still snoozing away in monkey pajamas.
Speaking of his pajamas, my cousin sent me about a zillion pairs of PJs for him and at least half of them have dogs on them. This thrills David to no end. The boy loves dogs so much he will let our neighbor’s lick him plain on the face and then laugh about it. This has not lessened our determination to not have another dog for a LONG time, though. We learned that lesson.
Leaving in now 18 minutes means it’s time to go into overdrive and we’ll probably be late anyway. I never understood why people with kids were always late until I had a second child. The unexpected, the potty trips and soiled diapers, shoes and socks and stains and clothes stripped off when you’re trying to leave … it’s not always under Mommy’s control.
We try. Oh, we try.