It's Kind of a Funny Story
So there are a few things that cannot happen in the morning before school.
One, no one kid can get up before the others. To do so would cause the others to accuse me of favoritism.
Two, no one can turn on the TV. It will come as no surprise but when the TV is on it has a trance-like effect. No matter what's on, I'll find the kids in various stages of undress, staring at the TV. They could've all been dressed, holding backpacks, ready to walk out the door, and if the TV is on, I'll turn around and suddenly they're down to their socks, hair mussed, under covers on the couch, seduced by Dora or Little Bear or MacNeil Lehrer.
Three, no one can use their DS or Wii or iPhone. This includes me. If I even look at my email between 6:45 and 7:55, bam, my work day begins. And apparently one cannot EVER stop a DS game mid-play. You have to 'finish the level' or 'get to the next level' or 'save' or 'conquer Fleebo the Ironic' before you can shut off the game. This can take hours. And while the iPhone and its myriad apps can be lifesavers in a busy restaurant or during an important phone call or Saturday morning at 5 a.m., letting one kid play with the iPhone creates a serious case of 'the grabs' in which Player B grabs the phone from Player A, who isn't 'doing it right,' which causes Player C to intervene, angering Player A and Player B.
All this to say that this morning we broke all the rules. Abby was up at 6 a.m. (strike one) so while I made lunches and checked worksheets and slept standing up at the kitchen sink, she sat on the couch and watched TV (strike 2). Since Abby was up early, she was also ready early. So while we were waiting for Jake to get dressed she played on my phone (strike 3). Eventually Jake had enough of the injustice. One minute before we needed to walk out the door, he stripped down to his shorts and refused to move.
So Abby and I got in the car and went to school, without Jake. In the few short blocks to school I played out the scenario where someone finds Jake at home alone, calls the police, I'm arrested but vindicated by the support of parents worldwide who have been in the same situation and think my actions were not only acceptable but commendable. (I have a vivid imagination.) I knew Jake would be tardy, but I thought it would be a good lesson for him. Maybe I'd even make him walk to school. That would really drive it home. Maybe he'd really listen and take me seriously.
Or maybe he would decide to walk to school on his own.
I got back to the house in record time and planned to pick up Jake, and run him up to school before the second bell. But when I got home he wasn't here. No backpack. No shoes in the living room where he'd left them. I'd seen my neighbor in the front yard so I knew he wasn't there. So, back in the car. I drove up to school on the route we take when we walk or ride bikes. No Jake. Back home another way. No Jake. Back to school still another route and when I rounded the corner a couple of blocks away, there he was. Ambling along as if he was walking to the park.
I pulled up next to him. He walked faster. So I pulled to the curb and watched him walk about three blocks. I tried again. He ignored me. A block later I tried again and he walked to the car without a word. Finally, at 8:11, I dropped him off at school.
He muttered goodbye when he got out of the car, and I think he looked remorseful.
Or smug.
One, no one kid can get up before the others. To do so would cause the others to accuse me of favoritism.
Two, no one can turn on the TV. It will come as no surprise but when the TV is on it has a trance-like effect. No matter what's on, I'll find the kids in various stages of undress, staring at the TV. They could've all been dressed, holding backpacks, ready to walk out the door, and if the TV is on, I'll turn around and suddenly they're down to their socks, hair mussed, under covers on the couch, seduced by Dora or Little Bear or MacNeil Lehrer.
Three, no one can use their DS or Wii or iPhone. This includes me. If I even look at my email between 6:45 and 7:55, bam, my work day begins. And apparently one cannot EVER stop a DS game mid-play. You have to 'finish the level' or 'get to the next level' or 'save' or 'conquer Fleebo the Ironic' before you can shut off the game. This can take hours. And while the iPhone and its myriad apps can be lifesavers in a busy restaurant or during an important phone call or Saturday morning at 5 a.m., letting one kid play with the iPhone creates a serious case of 'the grabs' in which Player B grabs the phone from Player A, who isn't 'doing it right,' which causes Player C to intervene, angering Player A and Player B.
All this to say that this morning we broke all the rules. Abby was up at 6 a.m. (strike one) so while I made lunches and checked worksheets and slept standing up at the kitchen sink, she sat on the couch and watched TV (strike 2). Since Abby was up early, she was also ready early. So while we were waiting for Jake to get dressed she played on my phone (strike 3). Eventually Jake had enough of the injustice. One minute before we needed to walk out the door, he stripped down to his shorts and refused to move.
So Abby and I got in the car and went to school, without Jake. In the few short blocks to school I played out the scenario where someone finds Jake at home alone, calls the police, I'm arrested but vindicated by the support of parents worldwide who have been in the same situation and think my actions were not only acceptable but commendable. (I have a vivid imagination.) I knew Jake would be tardy, but I thought it would be a good lesson for him. Maybe I'd even make him walk to school. That would really drive it home. Maybe he'd really listen and take me seriously.
Or maybe he would decide to walk to school on his own.
I got back to the house in record time and planned to pick up Jake, and run him up to school before the second bell. But when I got home he wasn't here. No backpack. No shoes in the living room where he'd left them. I'd seen my neighbor in the front yard so I knew he wasn't there. So, back in the car. I drove up to school on the route we take when we walk or ride bikes. No Jake. Back home another way. No Jake. Back to school still another route and when I rounded the corner a couple of blocks away, there he was. Ambling along as if he was walking to the park.
I pulled up next to him. He walked faster. So I pulled to the curb and watched him walk about three blocks. I tried again. He ignored me. A block later I tried again and he walked to the car without a word. Finally, at 8:11, I dropped him off at school.
He muttered goodbye when he got out of the car, and I think he looked remorseful.
Or smug.