Is this really where my morning has gone?
I’ve been up since 4:30 working on the stack of papers on the desk.
My rare quiet time.
Then the real morning routine begins.
She smiles, she laughs.
Then a request she doesn’t take well.
And the coin-flip works against me today.
NO! to pottying.
NO! to brushing teeth.
How dare I ask her to get dressed.
She’s in tears, thrashing.
I now find myself sitting atop of her, cramming legs into pants.
She squirms. She cries.
Hugs don’t work.
Threats don’t work.
Sad especially for the other two.
The two who ride this roller coaster of Charlotte emotions with us.
Stella who tugs at my pants, “Mommy, I love you.”
Henry who actually hugs my shoulder; something reserved for Andy.
Back to chaos.
Andy straps her into the car.
The door is shut.
I assume I’ll hear quiet.
But I still hear sobs.
Only now they are mine.
I pull myself together and head to work.
Lady Gaga blasts on the radio.
Starbucks becomes a necessity and the warmth calms me.
Andy calls to say she calmed down the instant she was in the daycare director’s arms.
Of course she did.
These are MOMents I’d rather forget.