the morning routine...

The mornings, ahhh the mornings. Not my favorite time of day unless I am on vacation or it is a Saturday that doesn't have an early soccer or basketball game. But the usual day, it starts out a bit like this.
Alarm. Snooze. Alarm. Snooze. Alarm. Snooze. Comment by Cody about how horrible the alarm selection on my cell phone is. It really is terrible, remind me to change it, I'll say. Alarm, sigh. 1, 2, 3, go! Neither of us moves. We rock paper scissors for who will get up first to turn the fan off and light on, it's always freezing in my room (well, not always if you know what I mean, wink). I always win, even if I lose because I give "the face" (it really is cute, even I couldn't deny myself). So he turns off the fan and the lights come on. Covers over my head then a dramatic toss of the covers and...
I'm up.
So I put something on (usually what ever was thrown to the wayside the night before) and walk down the hallway to wake the 17yr old stuck in my 7yr old son's body. Then the 45min stand off with Max begins. "I wish school was never invented" Max says. "If it was never invented then you wouldn't have TV or a computer or WII", I say. This does not placate Max. "I don't care about those things", he says, "I just want to be at home with you". Oh, he's good but I'm a mom, I know how to handle these situations, oh wait…I don't. It's adlib like everyday of your life. You think you have it under control and then they throw in the "I just want to be with you" comment??? I mean, you never know what is coming next and your just pulling things out of places in your mind you didn't know existed. I think that's where the "instinct" is kept. You start saying things like "when I was younger" and "I don't want to have to take away your PS2, you have to make that decision with your actions". WHAT? Did I really just say that? Yes. Yes I did. And the stand off continues…
Max grasps tightly onto the closest part of his bed frame and I begin to pry. Prying is always fun in the morning especially when you are up a story at the top of a bunk bed. There is always the necessary planning for how you will fall from this bunk bed to save your child's life and risk your own (which at this point in time seems inevitable). Roll on my back pushing him away? Or do I grab onto the nearest rung of the ladder and grasp him like they would do at the cliff scene on an Indian Jones movie? These are all legitimate thoughts and fears at this point. I get him out of bed. Ya!!!! But there is one flaw. Beds have legs.
Reinforcement finally arrives.
Cody kind of plays the part of the negotiator. Ya know, the guy with the police that is in charge of talking the terrorists or bank robbers holding prisoners to give up and come out. Well, it works some how. And why? I forgot about donuts! I always forget about the donuts!
Donuts.
So, we all pile up into the car. Max with a scowl, me almost in tears because I'm beginning to think that the reason Max doesn't want to go to school is because some kid is teasing him and then my tears turn into a litany of questions about bullies and how I will personally tell them to leave you alone, or better yet, call their mother. Cody grins, because he thought of the donuts and somehow every morning finds things ridiculous circus amusing. We pull up to the school. Max sees a friend and immediately becomes elated and cannot wait to jump out of the car. I'm going to get that kid's number and have him wake Max up from now on. Things may go a bit more smoothly. Donuts for all.
Then there is work. Let's leave that for another day...