* Lawson woke up 20 minutes early. Crying. Tried to ignore it for awhile and finish getting myself ready, but a 2 year old yelling "Tum get me out, Mommy!" is kind of hard to ignore.
* Lawson is up first now, obviously. This isn't our routine. Change in the routine isn't good in this house. At least not at 6:45 am. Instead of getting Sophie up first and having 15-20 minutes to snuggle together on the couch, she has to share me with Lawson. She's definitely a little creature of habit and she is not happy about this change. Her little lungs have no trouble expressing this unhappiness, either.
* We get downstairs, but Lawson's juice and Hershey's kiss aren't sitting on the bannister ready for him to grab first thing. (Yes. He gets a Hershey's kiss as soon as he wakes up. Maybe not my best mommy tactic, but it makes him cooperative enough to get dressed and ready. Sophie gets one after she gets dressed and goes potty. When you're getting 2 little people ready for the day and out the door by 7:15, alone, you do what you have to do. Don't judge me.) He's not happy about this change in his routine and his little lungs have no trouble expressing this, either.
* Sophie's in the bathroom yelling, actually screaming, that she doesn't have to go potty. And she's mad because last night at 11:00 when I was getting everything around for "Beach Day" at pre-school, I couldn't find her flip flops. We have the outfit, hat, and beach towel, but no flip flops.
* Lawson's dressed and picking out another Hershey's Kiss (Again, don't judge me. Mornings like this, it's purely survival mode. They are dark chocolate ones, at least. That's a little healthier, right?)
* I run outside and find the flip flops underneath the swingset. Along with a stuffed Nemo and a purse full of goodies. As I'm running back to the door, I see that Lawson has opened the door to follow me out and a cat has escaped. I manage to chase down Chloe and get her back in the house.
* Show Sophie the found flip-flops and she's not impressed. Still too busy yelling in the bathroom.
* Rush to grab my lunch (which Corey so lovingly makes for me every night. Spoiled, I know.) Groan at the zip-loc bag full of chocolate covered graham cracker cookies that are in my lunch bag. These would be the very same cookies that I bought at Wal-Mart the night before to use for ladybug cookies on Ladybug Day. (Luckily, this was Thursday and Ladybug Day wasn't until Friday. When I counted later, including the ones from my lunch bag, I had 60 cookies. I needed 61. Guess who made the trip to Wal-Mart to buy me more on Thursday night?!) :)
* Gather up my lunch, my purse, my school bag, Sophie's backpack, and my bag of 60 ladybug cookies and put them on the loveseat near the front door.
* Finally resort to getting a plastic spoon and giving Sophie a swat with it. This is after explaining that her flip flops will not jump on her feet by her standing there screaming at them. Somewhat hard to follow through with the swat when the tears instantly stop and she's saying, "I'm sorry, Mommy. I am so, so sorry!" I was sorry, too, but all the screaming that had gone on was just not okay.
* Get both kids, all the bags and myself out the front door. Pull it shut behind me and hear it lock and think to myself, "No. Please, no." Yup. Car keys are not in my purse, but laying on the loveseat, locked in the house.
* Rush to the backdoor to grab the spare key, only to find that my loving hubby had not returned it to it's secret spot when he used it earlier in the week. Thank goodness for cell phones. It's almost 7:25.
* Sit on the porch with the kids and wait for Corey to show up to rescue us. He pulls up (very quickly, to his credit) with a truck full of park shop guys. They were all treated to a lovely display by a ranting, frazzled wife. Not my best moment. Especially when he said, "Why didn't you just use the spare key to the backdoor?"
* Thankfully manage to get through the first train crossing without any trains. Basically toss the kids in the door at Jessi's with a quick explanation and quick hugs and kisses. Lawson is crying when I leave.
* I call Corey on my way to school to apologize for being a ranting, frazzled wife earlier and start crying on the phone.
* Get stuck at a train at the 2nd set of tracks. Thankfully, it was a short one. And this gave me a minute to stop crying, call Jessi, apologize for being so frantic, and tell her that Sophie's hat for "Beach Day" is in her backpack.
* Somehow... I still made it to school by 7:45. Five minutes before my kids arrive. Just enough time to get my Diet Dr. Pepper, take a few deep breaths and prepare for 20 more little people.
Later on in the day, this arrived... and somehow it made all the awfulness of the morning, now okay...