School mornings are difficult.

My alarm goes off at 5am every morning, and every morning I snooze it three or four times, until I just can’t take the constant nag of the alarm sounding. By this point it is around 5:40am, I sluggishly walk to my daughter’s bedroom. You would think the hardest part would be getting to her bed since I practically spend two minutes tripping on clothes, stuffed animals and soccer cleats, but the worst part is yet to come — waking her up. She always seems to find a way to strategically wrap her body around in her blankets that makes it like a shield. She feels no pokes, jabs, or taps. I try to gently whisper in her ear and rub her back while telling her to get up and get ready, but to no avail. I then resort to the only thing I know works, the nagging sound of my voice saying…


Once I see her little evil eye, I know I have done my duty. As she pouts while getting ready, I move on to making her lunch. My daughter is on a real kick lately when it comes to lunches. She has requested a Nutella sandwich and a pouch of applesauce every single day. I know as a mother I should be trying to add in variety, but I am going to be honest with you, I don’t mind making the same thing every day since it makes my mornings a little easier.  As I finish bagging everything up, I notice there is a thick folder in her backpack. To my surprise, there are papers upon papers of things that need my signature, clubs that are asking for money and of course I find out that today is picture day! As I start writing out a check and trying to distinguish between Picture Package A versus B2, I see my daughter pass by wearing a baseball cap, a flowing dress, pink capris, and black sneakers. What a mess! I tell her its picture day and after five minutes of arguing that it’s not, she finally decides to go back into her room and wear something a little less “wow.”

Now that that nightmare has been averted, we can move on to getting into the car to head to school before 7:50am. Did I mention that at this point it is 7:35am and I live ten minutes from the school? Or that I haven’t had a cup of coffee? Or that breakfast hasn’t even been discussed? I throw cereal into a sandwich bag and apologize we don’t have the luxury to have it with milk. We hop into the car with about 7 minutes to get there. With a little maneuvering, we make it to school. My daughter hops out of the car and shouts “I love you Mom!”

Just for those four words, I will do this all again tomorrow and the next day and the next day!

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