I don't know how y'all do it.
A few weeks ago, before Ethan started school, I had joyous visions of the oodles of free time his school day would afford me. Two and a half glorious hours, every day.
Just think of all the blogging you'll do!
(Of course, in these visions I was also about 40 pounds thinner and immaculately coiffed. But that's really beside the point.)
Then reality had its way with me, and I suddenly realized the fallacy of my dream. I have a five and three-quarter year old. Their asses? Unlightable.
And since he has afternoon kindergarten--and he knows it--the threat of missing the bus if he doesn't eat his breakfast and take his bath has no affect on him. He knows it won't be coming for hours anyhow.
I suppose this is my fault for having such a laid back, lackadaisical approach to a morning routine for all these years I've been home with him. Heck, if we didn't have anywhere to be, I'd just as soon stay in my jammies until noon. I've always hated being rushed so early in the day.
Now, mornings are the only productive time Ethan's new schedule allows, and I've gone and borked it. Retroactively.
This past few weeks have been a test to both of us, but we're gradually getting the flow of the new schedule down. He ate breakfast this morning with relatively little fuss and went to take a shower without having to be asked. The house is a disaster, and the cat still hasn't been fed, but there are groceries to buy, and an oil change to be done, so I'm taking every little victory where I can get it.
This will be my last year at home with him before I re-enter the working world, and as much as I'm looking forward to it, I have a feeling next September will be a little preview of Armageddon in the Gray household.
Should be fun.