School Mornings
"Good morning, Good morning, Good morning I say, Good morning, Good morning, and have a nice day" I sang. I had exercised, showered, dressed, read my scriptures and was ready to start the day.
The lumps in the beds didn't budge.
Hmmmm. I switched to reveille type tune: "It's time to get up, it's time to get up, it's time to get up in the morning! It's time to get up, it's time to get up, it's time to get up today!"
One of the lumps rolled over and pulled a pillow over his head.
"Come on boys, it's time to wake up. We leave for school in forty-five minutes."
"Uuuuuuhhhhhnnnnnnggggg." One of the lumps said.
"Breakfast is on the table." I told them.
"Rrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnngggggghhhhhh!" The other lump said. Speaking English is not their strong point first thing in the morning.
I left the room and went to the kitchen where I pulled out the cereal and placed it on the table. I gathered bowls and spoons from the dishwasher and got the milk from the fridge. I wasn't going to let a couple of lumps keep me from my breakfast. I ate at a leisurely pace, then cleared my bowl and wandered back to the bedroom.
The lumps hadn't moved.
"Half an hour until we need to leave for school!" I told them. "It's time to get up and get dressed!"
"Yyyyyyyynnnnnnn." The lumps said.
"I mean it!" I told them. They were too big for me to physically drag out of bed. I left and returned to the kitchen where I finished unloading the dishwasher and refilled the cats' food and water dishes.
"Twenty minutes until time to go!" I called.
I emptied the cat litter and gathered up the trash to take out.
"Fifteen minutes!" I called.
One of my boys had emerged from his cocoon and put on his school shirt (over the shirt he wore yesterday, and slept in, and I think he was still wearing the same pants from yesterday, too.) He wandered into the kitchen to collect a few things for his lunch. I asked him to go back and at least change his shirt. He looked at me like I was demanding the world on a platter, but retreated to his room to make a change.
"Ten minutes!" I called for the lump that was still in his bed.
The boy who was up gathered his school things and found his shoes and a pair of anklet socks that wouldn't reach all the way to his heels. When did his feet get so big? When he looked determined to make them fit, I suggested that he find some bigger socks. With another look for my unreasonable demand, he trudged back to his room in search of another pair of socks.
"Five minutes and we need to leave!" I started putting the breakfast food away. They wouldn't have time to eat anything at this point.
Returning with a fresh pair of socks, my son informed me that my other son was now up, and was currently wearing only his underwear. At least he's actually changing his clothes, I thought to myself.
Then it was time to leave. The child who was ready asked if he could go, and I told him he could, and wished him a good day. I settled in to wait for my other child, who eventually emerged from his room, dressed in his uniform, with socks in hand and looking for his shoes, which were under the dining room table. When they were on, he strolled into the kitchen where he collected a few things for his lunch. Eventually, fifteen minutes later, he too was ready to go. We set off walking at a brisk pace, and made it to school a few minutes before the late bell.
As I returned home, I pondered the question, "Why do I try to wake them up a whole 45 minutes before I'd like to leave... and an hour and 15 minutes before the actual late bell?" Sure, that might be how much time they would need if they were actually going to sit down and eat breakfast, and make a sandwich or something for lunch and walk to school at a leisurely pace, and arrive there early enough to go to their lockers and get settled in before the school day begins. But they don't seem to care about any of that. What would happen if I just waited until there were only 30-40 minutes before the late bell to wake them up? Would they realize they didn't have much time and get up right away?Or would they still take half an hour to wake up? What should I be doing to make both their mornings and mine as easy as possible?
By the time I got home, I still hadn't figured out the answer.
The lumps in the beds didn't budge.
Hmmmm. I switched to reveille type tune: "It's time to get up, it's time to get up, it's time to get up in the morning! It's time to get up, it's time to get up, it's time to get up today!"
One of the lumps rolled over and pulled a pillow over his head.
"Come on boys, it's time to wake up. We leave for school in forty-five minutes."
"Uuuuuuhhhhhnnnnnnggggg." One of the lumps said.
"Breakfast is on the table." I told them.
"Rrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnngggggghhhhhh!" The other lump said. Speaking English is not their strong point first thing in the morning.
I left the room and went to the kitchen where I pulled out the cereal and placed it on the table. I gathered bowls and spoons from the dishwasher and got the milk from the fridge. I wasn't going to let a couple of lumps keep me from my breakfast. I ate at a leisurely pace, then cleared my bowl and wandered back to the bedroom.
The lumps hadn't moved.
"Half an hour until we need to leave for school!" I told them. "It's time to get up and get dressed!"
"Yyyyyyyynnnnnnn." The lumps said.
"I mean it!" I told them. They were too big for me to physically drag out of bed. I left and returned to the kitchen where I finished unloading the dishwasher and refilled the cats' food and water dishes.
"Twenty minutes until time to go!" I called.
I emptied the cat litter and gathered up the trash to take out.
"Fifteen minutes!" I called.
One of my boys had emerged from his cocoon and put on his school shirt (over the shirt he wore yesterday, and slept in, and I think he was still wearing the same pants from yesterday, too.) He wandered into the kitchen to collect a few things for his lunch. I asked him to go back and at least change his shirt. He looked at me like I was demanding the world on a platter, but retreated to his room to make a change.
"Ten minutes!" I called for the lump that was still in his bed.
The boy who was up gathered his school things and found his shoes and a pair of anklet socks that wouldn't reach all the way to his heels. When did his feet get so big? When he looked determined to make them fit, I suggested that he find some bigger socks. With another look for my unreasonable demand, he trudged back to his room in search of another pair of socks.
"Five minutes and we need to leave!" I started putting the breakfast food away. They wouldn't have time to eat anything at this point.
Returning with a fresh pair of socks, my son informed me that my other son was now up, and was currently wearing only his underwear. At least he's actually changing his clothes, I thought to myself.
Then it was time to leave. The child who was ready asked if he could go, and I told him he could, and wished him a good day. I settled in to wait for my other child, who eventually emerged from his room, dressed in his uniform, with socks in hand and looking for his shoes, which were under the dining room table. When they were on, he strolled into the kitchen where he collected a few things for his lunch. Eventually, fifteen minutes later, he too was ready to go. We set off walking at a brisk pace, and made it to school a few minutes before the late bell.
As I returned home, I pondered the question, "Why do I try to wake them up a whole 45 minutes before I'd like to leave... and an hour and 15 minutes before the actual late bell?" Sure, that might be how much time they would need if they were actually going to sit down and eat breakfast, and make a sandwich or something for lunch and walk to school at a leisurely pace, and arrive there early enough to go to their lockers and get settled in before the school day begins. But they don't seem to care about any of that. What would happen if I just waited until there were only 30-40 minutes before the late bell to wake them up? Would they realize they didn't have much time and get up right away?Or would they still take half an hour to wake up? What should I be doing to make both their mornings and mine as easy as possible?
By the time I got home, I still hadn't figured out the answer.
We've only been doing this whole make up for school thing for one week, and I have a different problem. They get up super early, far earlier than I would like them to get up. They even get dressed before they come down, because somehow I managed to get them in that habit! But then they put on the breaks. They eat at a ridiculously slow pace, they take about an hour to find socks, and half an hour to find their shoes, and another half hour to get their shoes on their feet. And then we have to walk to school, and I never have any idea what time to leave, because they either run the whole way and get there way way too early, or else they drag their feet the entire way and we're very nearly late. And then I have to walk back home, and one child less seems to make the trip go even slower! I feel like I turn into monster mom telling them to hurry up!
ReplyDeleteMy boy hates to wake up in the mornings.. I find I return to his room every 2-3 minutes until he's up.. I'll pull at his blanket, sing ridiculous songs.. play the alarm clock off my cell phone and leave the room.. sometimes I'll even find his clothes for him and put them on his bed. I give him choices for breakfast.. oatmeal or cereal.. and he must answer me or I keep nudging and bugging him. Once he's spoken I know he at least realizes it's time to wake up. I'll tell him his food is on the table, and if he doesn't get out of bed "right now!" he won't get any. He'll usually, slowly emerge from his cocoon, if I haven't already torn it off.. and precede to dress and come for breakfast. His sister is usually dressed and eating by this point as well.. gets up the first, sometimes the second, time that I call. I wake them up an hour before they have to be at school.. He's usually out of bed 20-30 minutes before it's time to leave, which gives him enough time to get dressed, eat breakfast, make his lunch, and search for shoes and socks. Not bad overall. (It used to be much worse)
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