Yet, mornings are hell. I effin' hate them.
It doesn't matter how early I get up, how prepared I am before I even wake the boys, we are always rushing last minute.
No matter how much planning goes into getting out the door, the morning will entail one or more of the following:
- The realization that there was homework to be done, that didn't get done
- I look and realize Corbin has put on his clothes for the day OVER his pajamas and he is completely oblivious to the fact
- Corbin's ski pants just got up and walked away some time during the middle of the night
- Brian has decided his pants, underwear, and/or socks are just not going to satisfy his sensory needs for the day so he must change
- Corbin has a meltdown because he realizes he doesn't have any more gum and he's going to be an anxious mess if he doesn't get that oral stim during his school day
- Just as we're going out the door one of them sneezes and gets boogers all over my clothes so I have to change
- A huge tantrum because someone can't watch Mr. Popper say "Stay focused!" over and over and over again
- Always cleaning up some sort of spill from the morning- usually juice since Brian likes to go in and drink straight out of the bottle
- Reminding Corbin twenty times that he can't play legos until he is fully ready for school
- A long talk with Brian about why he must put up the toilet seat when he pees
