The Morning Routine

My wife is spending the day in Toronto today, so I have kid responsibilities. I like to think that I'm a very capable dad and getting the kids up and off to school is not the most difficult thing to do. However, I don't do this often and I always feel some stress as I can't remember from one time to the next all that needs to be done.

I was up early, got myself dressed and fed, and even had time to put out the garbage/recycling that I'd forgotten to do last night. I reviewed the note left for me by my wife that included instructions on what to pack in the kids' lunches. The lunches were nearly ready, I just needed to add an apple to each bag and cook up some chicken nuggets for my daughter.

Now before you gasp about the chicken nuggets (I know I'm too late for you mom), allow me to explain. We buy PC Blue Menu Chicken Nuggets, and as far as nuggets go, these are about as healthy as they come. They have no trans fats, provide lots of protein, and they are a great way to get your daily recommended intake of guar gum.

Nuggets baked, I looked at my watch and decided it was time for my little sleepy heads to wake up. My son is easy to wake up, but my daughter is numb to conventional tactics and it's a five-minute process to get her to open her eyes.

"Guys, I need you to get up and get dressed," I calmly instructed, before going downstairs to take another sip of my coffee. Things were going according to plan and I was feeling a touch of self-satisfaction.

It was short lived. Ten minutes later, neither kid had come downstairs and I heard yelling from the bedrooms.

"What's going on up there???"

"Daddy, he's gone back to sleep!"

"Get out of bed! And don't yell at your brother!"

Seconds later, my daughter came hobbling into the kitchen in her PJ's to tell me that she hurt her ankle at gymnastics and she could barely walk! It was the strangest thing, as I had heard nothing of this last night and this injury (so obviously crippling by the display before me), seemed only to show itself when I needed her to hurry. I'm sure there's a medical journal somewhere that will want to study this, but for the time being I had to keep her moving.

"Guys, we're running out of time! I need you to GET DRESSED!"

Down came my son, wearing a pair of shorts (on backwards, of course) and his PJ top, complaining that his sister threatened to write something in his notebook. The instructions had been perfectly clear and nowhere did notebooks come into play.

"GET DRESSED!" WE'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!"

"Daddeeeeeeeeeeee? I can't find my shirt," whined my daughter.

"I don't know where your shirt is, but you need to find it, we're running out of time."

"Daddeeeeeeeeeee? I put my shirt somewhere and now I don't know where it is," again, from my daughter.

"I DON'T KNOW WHERE YOUR SHIRT IS, FIND SOMETHING AND PUT IT ON, WE'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!!!"

"Daddeeeeeeeee, I can't find my stuffed..."

"WE DON'T HAVE ANY TIME FOR STUFFED ANYTHING, JUST PUT YOUR CLOTHES ON AND GET DOWNSTAIRS!!!"

"But my ankle..."

"GET!!! DRESSED!!!"

How could they possibly be unclear on the plan???

The kids had somehow used up all of the available time and hadn't had any breakfast. I had to give them something before sending them off to school, so they each had two of the extra chicken nuggets that I had cooked up and half a banana. They were told they had to grab the food and go as we had to get our shoes on for what had now become a mad dash to beat the bell.

Off we ran. My son loved the idea of running to school and took a commanding early lead down the sidewalk. My daughter seemed to run well for someone who was nearly put down just minutes before. There were kids on both sides of the sidewalk which was a good sign we weren't going to be late. Strangely, they weren't running and we closed the gap.

When we got to the crosswalk, my son took a bite from his chicken nugget and the crossing guard said, "Chicken nuggets for breakfast???" and laughed in my direction. I could have done without that, but had to stay focused on getting these kids to school.

Passing children left and right, we made it to the back of the school and the usual mob of children, parents, screams, and general mahem. I realized at that moment that the bell doesn't ring at 8:35 a.m., it rings at 8:40 a.m. and we were early!

Ugh!!

I guess the nice part was that I had a bit of time to give them a proper send off for their day. My daughter gets a hug, a kiss and I tell her to have a great day. My son insists on a hug, a kiss, a high five, and he says "a special thing I say 'I love you'," always in that order.

Really glad I had time for that.