Fumble #3

Who know where these fumbles are going...but it is fun to spread the news of my imperfections, especially since my blog is called Sara Jane Says and really what I know is very little. (I am an extremely good pretender though!)

Onwards. Fumble #3 is Blaming my lack of having it together on my kids. Ouch. This morning I woke up to my husband asking me if I was going to get up. In female that sounds a lot like "You are being lazy. Get out of bed." Not how I anticipated this day starting. Now, I confess, I asked him to help me get up earlier. Big mistake, ladies. Huge. If you are anything like me, morning is a very fragile time. I remember growing up that my family never talked to me in the morning until after I had eaten my cereal. Enough said. I got up and read my bible. After that, I looked at the clock and turned it into high-gear (i.e. crazy mom on the loose mode). I made my daughter's sandwich and then heard her yelling "Mommy!!! Mommy!!!" I muttered to my husband, "Why can't she get out of bed and come down stairs when she is awake? Why must she scream?"

She made it down stairs with her sweet daddy's help. I promptly kissed her, set her in her chair and handed her a doughnut in one swift manner. I added her vitamins to her plate to compensate for the quick, non-nutritional, powdery mess that we called breakfast this morning. Moments later my son sneaked up on me with a big smile on his face. I greeted him with a kiss and set him up with the same quality breakfast that his sister had. I supplied them with a wet washcloth to clean their hands from all of the powder. I quickly ran upstairs to hop in the shower.

By the time I made it out of the shower my husband was running out the door. He was running late and so was I. Then it hit me. Ugh. I was suppose to get my daughter an empty pringles can for a project and I did not. So high gear turned into "you-better-watch-out-here-she-comes" mode. I got dressed, threw on makeup and my kids appeared before me arguing. Not uncommon these days. I told them to quit arguing and go get on the clothes that I had pulled out for them. I continued getting ready and then checked on the progress of dressing. My daughter had on her pants and no shirt and was cuddled in bed. My son still had on his pajamas. I told them (with a more stern tone) "Please get dressed." I dried my hair and called them into the bathroom to brush teeth. I had to wait for my son because his "toes were too cold to brush his teeth." He needed socks. I told him the socks were in the hamper in my room. Did I confess that I am horrible with laundry?? He found some socks and of course has to put them on just so. I resisted the urge to grab the socks and stick them on. My daughter finished her teeth brushing. I asked her how she wanted her hair, "Pony tail, flip tail or braid?" She responded, "I want sports braids where you can't see the holder." I retorted, "We don't have time for that and I don't even know what it is." She said, "I will go get my book and show you." I responded, "We don't have time. Pony tail, flip tail or braid?" She responded, "Sports braids." UGH!!! Finally I said, "You are getting a pony tail. I don't have time for this." I sent her downstairs.

I got her brother's teeth brushed and sent him downstairs only to hear the two of them arguing over who got to sit on what step. I threw some socks down to my daughter and asked her to put them on and asked my son to put on his shoes. I brushed my teeth and headed down to put on my shoes. My daughter had on no socks and my son was back upstairs. The wheels were coming off the wagon. "I told you to put on your socks!! Where is your brother??" My son came downstairs with a huge pile of books under his arm. To my amazement he made it down the stairs without dropping them. My daughter began to cry, "I can't do this!!" My six year old had not even tried to put on her socks but insisted that she was unable. I remember muttering something about her 4 year old brother being able to do it. Then I said, "No pringles can." My daughter began to cry and said, "Fine. Then I am not going to school." I replied, "Okay." Not the best response, I know. Remember, this is a fumble.

I convinced my daughter to get in the car and then she said something along the lines of "Fine then!" and crossed her arms. I replied with, "You are grounded." Without skipping a beat she asked, "From what?" I replied, "From anything fun." My son looked at me and asked, "From like toys and books and stuff?" I was not prepared to answer so many questions about a punishment that I thought would simply just spark a little bit of respect from my daughter. My plan backfired. We were on our way to school with me asking my daughter why she talks back to me yet she behaves beautifully at school? I did pull into CVS to buy some pringles and as we pulled into the spot my daughter just said a quiet, "Thank you mommy."

That quiet answer melted my heart. I knew she was sorry. We bought the pringles and on the way out to the car I got down at eye level with my daughter and said, "I love you. Let's have a good morning." I set the tone for my home. I realized that it was not my daughter's fault that I had not gotten the pringles can the night before. She had told me right after school yesterday that she needed it. It was not her fault that I did not get up earlier. It was not her fault that I neglected to pray. Ouch. Fumble. If I had been responsible, I might have dealt with my daughter's whining and complaining in a better manner. Don't get me wrong, it is not okay for her to whine. Then again, it is not okay for me either.