In my current state of affairs I am unsure as to whether or not a normal Wednesday exists anymore? Or if I need to change my definition of “Normal” all together?
Regardless…today was especially “whacky” as my son continued to take part in spirit week at school (that was a very well put together semblance of days to show off both aspirations and silliness …if you are reading this Allie you did good girl). Along with having to slither out of my bedroom like an over hungry, never get to sleep Anaconda because my daughter woke up in the middle of the night and refused to go back to her bed (again) and then oh so quietly attempt to close the bathroom door so that I could get the water on before I woke up any of my lovely offspring (you see if they start asking for me once the water is turned on, I can’t hear them and you know what they say if a tree falls and no one hears it, it doesn’t make any noise…they say that right?!)
Anyways the point of my ramble was that on top of my every morning madness my adorable and always so well behaved pokey (because I legit have never seen anyone take longer to get ready ever) son asked me for special help this morning. Obviously the shirt that we had pre-chosen and laid out last night that he would wear backwards to school today with his pajama pants to show off how whacky he was would not work any longer. And he just couldn’t (EXACT words) find another shirt alone.
Yea no problem kid, let me just eat the leftover crackers from your lunch box yesterday for my lunch today because now I don’t get to pack one. That’s what we do as moms though right…so new shirt chosen! An Alien taking a selfie he decided was just whacky enough that he didn’t even need to wear it backwards. Awesome because I was sure that he would find a way to complain about the collar of the shirt or the arm holes or anything really had he actually worn it the wrong way.
That adorable child who had been up for over 45 minutes but chose to speak into the remote and turn on “The Loud House” to watch while I asked him about 1,000 times to please get ready while I was running around then asked me to help him with his hair. His hair that he DID NOT want to do anything to for school. His hair that could have been done before right that second that I was putting on shoes and gathering bags to trudge to the car with. His hair that I asked him about every minute for 10 mins while he watched his show but he was positive that his outfit was enough to make him have spirit.
I mean obviously I helped him with his hair. We got it all spiked out in a million different directions and gelled up and it looked wonderfully whacky when we FINALLY left (24 mins late by the way in case any one was wondering). He was so happy and excited and he looked great!
As I walked him up the stairs to his before school program and looked down at the skirt I had to wear without spraying static guard on, that was sticking to my sweater leggings, with the shirt that had popped a button as I carried my daughter kicking and screaming to the car, and my boots that had come untied somewhere between driving and walking. I wondered to myself why had it taken so much effort and TIME for my son to dress up for “Whacky Wednesday” when clearly I had the whacky part down without even trying?!