Monday, May 23, 2016
Monday
And we begin anew!
My Monday through Friday routine: I wake up. That's first every time. lately Ana is up before me, although that's a new development. Ana's chronobiology is different than mine. I can spring awake and get started almost immediately. To Ana and her ilk, I am both mysterious and annoying. I don't always enjoy waking up early. Father's day is coming up and it is my secret wish to wake up at 10am to an empty house. I will take 9am and an empty room. 8:30, Micah and Ana in the room, but hand signals only to communicate, final offer.
Ana's been waking up early for work. As part of her work arrangement she has to shower and wear different, clean clothes everyday which means an early start. I have negotiated those terms out of my current situation. My side of the bed is gritty these days. I'm not proud of it. Not being a morning person, I am proud of her for getting up all by herself. There was a time when I would wake to the sound of birds chirping, tip toe out of the room, and have a good hour of me time. This still happens on the weekends, but it's we time now. Not me time.
So I wake up and Micah is either staring at me, or still sleeping. Scenario 1 is best because we can just get started going down the check list: Pacey in the sink (I know, we are the worst), take off your diaper and go pee, clothes or breakfast?, then pack up and out the door. Easy peasy. Scenario 2 is still good because I can then snuggle him for a few minutes while I try and wake him. But scenario 2 is not so good because we're usually running behind and the whole process gets compressed and I begin to panic.
Once out of bed, Micah walks to the back room where his toys are. He might plop down on the couch and stare sleepily until I remind him to get up and put his pacey in the kitchen sink. He would gladly suck on that thing all day long. Man. That was a mistake. All these soothing habits we have to now undo. We should put him in the woods like a Spartan. A week of that and I bet he'd be glad to sleep in his big boy bed.
Then I make his breakfast. It's either Quaker Oats brown sugar flavored instant oatmeal, or a banana and almond butter shake. The shake is portable so he can wander, but he eats the oatmeal in the dinning room. Once, when Rusty and Pepper were kittens, one of them attacked Micah's swinging feet while he ate. This happened one time, months ago. But now when Micah sits at the table he requires total lockdown. The cats must be moved into the kitchen and all doors must be closed. We even slide furniture in front of the swinging door to the kitchen. Then Micah claps his hands and I must dance.
Somewhere in this process Micah goes to the bathroom. Sometimes he gets all wiggly and makes the decision by himself, but usually we have to ask him 4 or 5 times before he gives in and goes. He always has to go when we finally convince him. He just doesn't choose it. I don't understand this part really. My full bladder takes precedent over most things. I suppose Micah was very recently a baby and only just began thinking of pooping and peeing as his responsibility. Or something. I don't know. But it's a battle. Usually we brush out teeth together after he pees.
And then clothes. Alway superhero themed. Always. And I can't just pick a shirt, I have to give him options. Like 6 options. I love the red shirt with black thunderbolts on it. He has never picked that shirt, but I include it in the mix everytime. I don't think it even fits him anymore, but I love it. It has a black chest pocket. And then jeans. Always jeans. Micah makes it clear that he will burn this house to the ground if he has to wear shorts.
An hour later, dressed and expressed, we're out the door and off to school. Ready to take on the day!
My Monday through Friday routine: I wake up. That's first every time. lately Ana is up before me, although that's a new development. Ana's chronobiology is different than mine. I can spring awake and get started almost immediately. To Ana and her ilk, I am both mysterious and annoying. I don't always enjoy waking up early. Father's day is coming up and it is my secret wish to wake up at 10am to an empty house. I will take 9am and an empty room. 8:30, Micah and Ana in the room, but hand signals only to communicate, final offer.
Ana's been waking up early for work. As part of her work arrangement she has to shower and wear different, clean clothes everyday which means an early start. I have negotiated those terms out of my current situation. My side of the bed is gritty these days. I'm not proud of it. Not being a morning person, I am proud of her for getting up all by herself. There was a time when I would wake to the sound of birds chirping, tip toe out of the room, and have a good hour of me time. This still happens on the weekends, but it's we time now. Not me time.
So I wake up and Micah is either staring at me, or still sleeping. Scenario 1 is best because we can just get started going down the check list: Pacey in the sink (I know, we are the worst), take off your diaper and go pee, clothes or breakfast?, then pack up and out the door. Easy peasy. Scenario 2 is still good because I can then snuggle him for a few minutes while I try and wake him. But scenario 2 is not so good because we're usually running behind and the whole process gets compressed and I begin to panic.
Once out of bed, Micah walks to the back room where his toys are. He might plop down on the couch and stare sleepily until I remind him to get up and put his pacey in the kitchen sink. He would gladly suck on that thing all day long. Man. That was a mistake. All these soothing habits we have to now undo. We should put him in the woods like a Spartan. A week of that and I bet he'd be glad to sleep in his big boy bed.
Then I make his breakfast. It's either Quaker Oats brown sugar flavored instant oatmeal, or a banana and almond butter shake. The shake is portable so he can wander, but he eats the oatmeal in the dinning room. Once, when Rusty and Pepper were kittens, one of them attacked Micah's swinging feet while he ate. This happened one time, months ago. But now when Micah sits at the table he requires total lockdown. The cats must be moved into the kitchen and all doors must be closed. We even slide furniture in front of the swinging door to the kitchen. Then Micah claps his hands and I must dance.
Somewhere in this process Micah goes to the bathroom. Sometimes he gets all wiggly and makes the decision by himself, but usually we have to ask him 4 or 5 times before he gives in and goes. He always has to go when we finally convince him. He just doesn't choose it. I don't understand this part really. My full bladder takes precedent over most things. I suppose Micah was very recently a baby and only just began thinking of pooping and peeing as his responsibility. Or something. I don't know. But it's a battle. Usually we brush out teeth together after he pees.
And then clothes. Alway superhero themed. Always. And I can't just pick a shirt, I have to give him options. Like 6 options. I love the red shirt with black thunderbolts on it. He has never picked that shirt, but I include it in the mix everytime. I don't think it even fits him anymore, but I love it. It has a black chest pocket. And then jeans. Always jeans. Micah makes it clear that he will burn this house to the ground if he has to wear shorts.
An hour later, dressed and expressed, we're out the door and off to school. Ready to take on the day!
# posted by joel @ 7:04 AM 
