If you ever hear rumor that I’ve been admitted to the insane asylum go ahead and believe it. And then know that my admittance has everything {EVERYthing} to do with getting Brynlee ready in the morning. I swear to you people, it’s not fun.
Her panties don’t fit right. And the leggings…they bother. And she hates that shirt. And why can’t she wear the pink shirt with the rainbow on it with the blue and green striped skirt? But, it looks so pretty together. And they both have blue! Don’t you see that little dab of blue on the rainbow, MOM? IT MATHCES. And the underwear - SHE NEEDS TO CHANGE THE UNDERWEAR. They itch. Then comes the tears. And with tears comes boogers. AAAHHHHH….she hates boogers. She needs a Kleenex, NOW! More tears. Clothes off, AGAIN. Starting over. But not that shirt. The sleeves are all wrong. It tickles her. And those pants hurt her knees.
And that’s just picking out her outfit. I haven’t even mentioned:
OUCH. Don’t comb my hair, it hurts. I don’t want a bow today. I hate braids. Why do we have to comb my hair? I don’t want curls! MOM, WHY DIDN’T YOU CURL MY HAIR! You know I love curls. Ouch. Hurry up. I want to be done. I. WANT. DADDY!!
And that, my friends, is a glimpse into the glitz and glamour of our daily routine. Don’t hate.
And also,
To My Dearest Mother:
Please accept this as my “Kim, someday you will be the mom and you will have daughters and then you will understand, you might even say you’re sorry.” apology. So, so sorry for grinding my heals into your barefooted toes while you tried unsuccessfully to comb my hair. I get it now. And don’t, for a second, think that I’m above cutting Brynlee’s hair into a wedge to forgo the snarly-bugs. I’m heavily debating it. God bless the wedge. And God bless mothers (especially during the morning hours).
Much love,
Your Daughter
‘The one that threw the ‘getting ready’ fit every.single.morning.’
Kim
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| My mom, me, jessica and jami - and our wedges circa 1985. |
5 comments:
I have this same battle everyday. Well not every day because most days I just let her wear her pajamas and don't do her hair. I am dreading kindergarten. Right now I just dread Sundays. My mom has told me time and time agian how much I deserve what I am getting. I guess what goes around comes around!
Now see, I'm kind of happy to learn this new-to-me information. Because as far as I can tell it is all rainbows and sunshine at your house in the morning whereas at my house there is weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. And not changing out of pajamas.
Hey your morning routine sounds just like mine, except split. Alec is so picky about his clothes (it doesn't have to match mom!!!) and Brynn always has tears while we do her hair. Honestly if we don't have tears I am shocked!
Have you tried soft pants? Haha!
Ahhh yes. I even fight a similar battle with my son...not so much about hair, but everything else and then some. :) Solidarity sister.
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