Another Day in the Life

So, it might have been presumptuous to assume the GOOD DAY GODS would smile down upon me this morning due to the incredibly chaotic day I had yesterday, but I think the BAD WEEK GODS are winning out thus far.

To start, I awoke 6:40, which is the exact time it is when the alarm has gone off five or six times and the morning news is delivering it's 6th or 7th weather report and just enough time to get Kyla's clothes ironed, scrounge for a single pair of socks and pack 4 school lunches. Thanks to my new drowsy pill (this is not habit-forming, folks...a simple prescription under careful supervision of my dr.), I was up for several hours of the night with piercing cramps in my right side (HEY, I have nothing else to blame)!

I'm feeling rough and so is Kyla, which would generally make for disastrous mother/pre-teen interaction, but this morning happens to be an exception. "It's snowing and they're STILL making you go to school this morning," I tell her, just so she starts off the day knowing I am on her side.

Unfortunately, you have to find creative ways to play "head games" with the pre-teen set, so you are the "frienemy" but not the enemy. For example, "Get up, Kyla...we're LATE!!!" would set off an unsavory set of circumstances in which mom is purposely trying to stack the odds against her by making her a)have a bad hair day, b)cause her to miss breakfast and c)intentionally force her to attend school with a still-damp uniform shirt making its way upstairs from the dryer at the last minute, which I often do anyway.

As it stands, Kyla is on my side this morning because JCPS (our county's public school system) is SO UNFAIR...so it's all good. Odds in my favor.
I rescue clothing from the dryer, iron her pants on the leather ottoman in the living room (there's an ironing board in the basement, but there's spiders there, too) and sleepwalk my way through packing four school lunchboxes.

It's now 7:30, and we really are late. AND, in an unfortunate slip-up, I leave Kyla to fend for herself in the game of sock-match while I rush outside to warm up the car and rescue her hairbrush from the back of Kevin's truck.
The snow is exceptionally gorgeous this morning, peppered with tiny shimmering accents that make our entire front yard look like a bowl of glitter. There are still more shiny specs falling upon us, and I almost get lost in the snow's intrinsic beauty in spite of the fact that we are late. I warm the car.

Kyla rushes outside, crying. This is at least a once-a-week occurrence, due to the fact that she is almost thirteen and her hormones tend to fluctuate. She, however, thinks it is because yet again, she's late, which is my fault...and if she's late twice in one week, she will have detention on Thursday.

I look on the bright side: "Well, have you been late yet this week?" Of course not; it's only Tuesday, and her daddy took her to school yesterday and, according to Kyla, her daddy is NEVER late to anything. To which I retort, "If you want to act like a crybaby about it, go ahead. Or, you can relax, because it's snowing and they'll understand if you're late. EVERYONE is late when it snows."

Yeah, I know, not winning any parenting awards with my reassuring words, but it worked, because she started eating the yogurt I gave her and quickly calmed down.
We slip and slide down several streets, one in which I have to carefully maneuver my car so we don't slide into a group of 6 or 7 middle-schoolers awaiting their bus. The roads are exceptionally slick this morning. Kyla is going on about how JCPS should have just canceled school, and I happen to agree...and again, we're back in sync.

There is one main thoroughfare on the way to and from school, and we are now on it. It's a two-lane road for the most part that also opens to our local freeway, and on this particular morning it is Completely. Backed. Up.

More chatter between child and "frienemy" about JCPS's poor decision.
The road is a sheet of ice. We sit quietly in bumper-to-bumper traffic while the clock edges past 8:00. I try to call Kevin to let him know I will not be taking the others to school. We are lucky to have two cars today: my mom's suburban, which I am driving, and Kevin's truck.

Kevin does not answer his phone, which makes Kyla laugh hysterically because no one can ever get either of us to answer. It's become a running joke in the family.
I cross my fingers and hope he's smart enough to prod the other children forward in their morning routine. Finally, he returns my call and yes, everyone is ready, and also....Sophie almost made it out the door wearing her brand-new sparkly flip-flops to school. Helllooooooooo, parent-teacher conference!

I point out that whoever runs the JCPS school cancellation system needs to take a drive around town before deciding to send children to school during inclement weather. Kyla grumbles about how it's some old man who sits home in a chair watching the weather report and forces them to go anyway since he had to walk five miles in the snow when he was a kid.

She is in rather good spirits when I drop her off, which makes me happy. Except I am also feeling rather defeated, considering the long drive home I must now endure.

I wait on the main road for a while, then follow cue from other cars to turn around and hop on the freeway. Which is worse. I come out on another main road that is equally backed up. Kevin meets me with my purse at the gas station, as I have been on low fuel all morning and am now wavering below the danger zone and understandably panicked. Then, I stop by mom's at her request, get the low-down for the day(which Kev has already given me since he dropped Levi off just 10 minutes prior) and make my way home. I almost slide directly into the tree of my own front yard.

All-in-all, it took more than 2 hours round-trip drive to take Kyla to a school merely 3 miles from our house...and Kevin an hour to take three children to a school just a few blocks from home. In Kev's words from a morning email....."Levi and I were both cursing JCPS in our own way...he just screamed out loud and I uttered obscenities in my mind while the traffic creeped along past cars and buses that had spun off the road...."

Now, safely tucked away and 1/2 bowl of Cheerios, one banana and one blog later, I ponder what to do with the rest of my day that is already half-busted. And I am thoroughly convinced that although the Good Day Gods might not be smiling upon us, they surely had a good belly laugh looking down at all of our morning madness.
--A