Drive Time Drill Sergeant

Most weeks if I’ve reached the peak of my frustration I’ve found myself telling my friends how sick I am of being “freaking Mary Poppins!” My neighbor even personified me as such one day as she commented on how I deliver discipline, explanations and direction to my kids.

Although I am FAR from Mary Poppins with my kids, I know I do take great pains to try to be fair, explain things well, and ATTEMPT to be considerate of my kids’ feelings when I tell them something.

However, that game is completely thrown out the door, into the rain, and ran over by the garbage truck when it comes to getting them ready for school each morning.

As we enter our first full week of all three kids at school, Girl Scouts starting and dance lessons beginning, precise measures have to be taken to keep all kids, schedules, lunches, homework, binder signing and such in order.

We had delayed “gratification” in the school routine establishment this year. Week one, we had only Saylah to get ready before the bus arrived. Week two, Audrey was thrown into the mix with VPK, but at least I drive her to school. This week, Isaac started Mom’s Morning Out on Mondays. And, boy was Monday a “treat” for all involved. =) 

I do start our days somewhat Ms. Poppins-ish. Thankful (for the first time actually) for those energy saver lights Ben put up in the rooms because they take a little to warm to full glow, I pop on the girls’ light with a gentle good morning ladies, time to get out of bed greeting. Audrey grumbles and reaches out her arms for a little a.m. snuggle. Saylah groans and turns over, pulling her soft blankie over her head. I partake in the slumber moment and then kindly walk out of the room reminding the girls, “time to get up and get dressed, you’ve got school today.”

And that is the last we see of the M.PoppinsMom. In to her room goes sweet, loving mom to get dressed and five minutes later (hair not done, makeup not on, of course) out pops Drill Sergeant Mommy from Hell.

I realize they are only 4 and 6, but if I can put on clothes in five minutes, they should at least have on half their clothes by the time I head downstairs. But, as I glance across the hall and at best see a naked toosh (most likely arguing with her sister over Goodness-knows-what) I am inspired to pull out of my carpet baggers tool bag the toosh-swat threat. “Get dressed girls, before I have to come in there and swat those tooshes.” This seems to get them into at least a forward moving motion.

I then go downstairs and quickly make something easy for breakfast. For good measure I throw in a banana. Three minutes later I’m hollering up the stairs, “Breakfast! Get a move on!”

At this point one of them (never both) will saunter … yes saunter, there is no sense of urgency … yet, down the stairs. Whichever child it is will want to tell me something about something. At which point Mrs. I-Really-Don’t-Care-I’ve-Not-Had-My-Coffee-Yet arrives in my body and replies, “Are you ready for school?” Blank stare. “No? Okay then, let’s stop talking and finish getting ready ... … please.”  Child follows directions and proceeds to chair. Second, missing in action child, is now barked at: “GET DOWN HERE NOW! Hurry up, we are going to be late.” (Okay we aren’t quite late yet, and I’m certain they really don’t know what that means, but the barking does have the needed effect.) Second child, scrambles down stairs. Then she too will start to chatter on about something. Feeling slightly bad about barking at her and ignoring the first child’s story I try a nicer approach (see Mary’s in there somewhere), “Honey, I would love to hear what you have to say, but let’s wait until you are all done with getting ready for school and if we have time you can tell me then. Cool? “ Happier to see a glimpse of her normal mommy, this child smiles and agrees. I then direct her to sit for breakfast.

Now, here’s the thing: My kids are known as slow eaters among our friends. I know I could curtail this to some extent, but at the end of the day, there are other battles to be fought. At least that is my feeling for any other meal except for the one preceding the departure for the school bus. And whereas I wish we could skip breakfast all together, I am aware of the literature claiming it’s significant importance. ;)

Every time, a couple of bites will be had before one tries to tell me something else or debate something with her sibling. Then whamo! Drill Sergeant Mom lurches into full force. “No more talking! Finish your food. Then you can talk. No talking, at all.”

Seriously, even I think I’m nuts at this point. But there is no other route that yields a successful departure time. So my poor little kiddos eat in silence (seemingly content at least.) and half of me feels a little like a heel and the other half, I will confess enjoys the morning silence (As if this needs to be said: I am not a morning person).

After breakfast we’re down to just minutes. By this time I’ve drug Isaac out of bed, put a sippy cup of milk and his breakfast in front of him while I tend to signing binders, finishing lunches, warming up coffee for the first time of what will be at least five times and locating shoes.

The last minute or two is reserved for giving orders such as: “Run. Run. Go brush your teeth. Fast, but do them well! (ha) That’s not running. I mean it run, we are going to be late! I am not missing the bus. Tomorrow we are getting up earlier tomorrow. (ha again)”

My very last shred of decency is used to brush hair. As gently and quickly as I can I throw their hair into some sort of  “style” (term used loosely), much to my chagrin, as my girls used to be the two who always had cute hair, neatly tucked and accented with a cute bow.  Now we’re more like bobby pins and maybe a matching ponytail holder. Maybe.

We run out the door, backpacks in their hands, baby in mine, and pile into the car. As I back the car down the drive, a cool sense of relief has washed over us and we decompress from our 45 minutes of chaos before we have to part ways for the day.

Thankfully this is the primary time this nuttiness happens in my household, and I’m glad my kids seem pretty strong in spirit and overall happy. Each day I think I’ll get them up earlier, so that I can put the drill sergeant out to pasture, but as of yet, we’ve not managed that feat. Perhaps, tomorrow. ;)