Mornings. Mornings here in the Stream house. Oy.
The Bigs are up by 6:15am. After breakfast is frantic lunchmaking, hair straightening, back pack packing and hugs for Daddy. I grab my coffee with cream and we are out the door by 6:50am. Josh to high school. Check. Sarah to middle school. Check. Me in the car alone, sipping coffee and listening to talk radio. Check. Check. Check.
Round Two. The Littles are harder to rouse. Nathan gets dressed and gets cozy in our bed to do his 20 min of silent reading. Basically they eat and talk, brush teeth and talk, get their gear on and talk. Tim can't find his pants, his shirt, a sock, his favorite car, his corn cob pipe or his button nose. Last week he had a TIM SIZED meltdown but only because the night before my husband and I had talked about how he hadn't melted down for awhile. Totally our fault.
This morning he couldn't find his ninja dude. It was in a pair of pants he tried on yesterday. They were 3 inches too short and ripped in both knees and the orphan look isn't in this winter. I threw them away. Piled them under drippy, oily, grungy things. His ninja dude was in the pocket. It is 8:25am. We need to leave at 8:30am. The boy was beginning to freak. I reassured him I TOTALLY KNEW WHERE THIS DUDE WAS!! I went outside, dug into the disgustingness and pulled out the pants. Side pocket? Nope. Side pocket? Nope. I prayed, "Dear Lord, I need this dude." I was thrilled to discover a back pocket holding the ninja that I raised over my head in victory!! YES!