This morning was not a good one with Jake.
Are mornings ever good with teenagers? I mean first, you have to practically grab their hairy adolescent legs and try to pry them out of bed while they cling to their blankets and moan like the world is ending. Wasn't it great when they were five and you could literally pick them up out of bed?
Then they grumble and complain, wolf down enough cereal to feed 5 small children, and...Jake? Back to his room. He closes the door, cranks his heavy metal music, and won't come out until it's time. TO. GO. NOW!!
"But I'm reaaaaaaady...what's your problem? Why are you nagging me? We won't be late. I just need to brush my teeth, and collect up my homework, and where's my shoes? Oh ya and I forgot my hat. And my lunch...."
Meanwhile I'm standing at the door, car keys in my hand and one eye on the clock thinking, "I'm gonna be late, I'm gonna be late, it's this kid's fault and my God I even work at his school this so shouldn't be happening."
This morning was one of those mornings, and as we finally got in the car I began to try to calmly explain to Jake how his method of getting ready in the morning stresses me out.
The result was not what I expected.
(this link takes you to my blog over at Everythingmom.com, called Scatteredinbc. Try it! The story is worth it, I promise. )