It started out to be a good morning. I got up early, cooked pancakes, got dressed for work- the birds were pretty much chirping at my windowsills.
Until- I did something that I always dread doing, and avoid it at any costs.
I had to wake her. My normally sweet, loving child is a not so sweet or loving child if she doesn't awaken on her own.
But, it was something that had to be done. Today was the day that she has been waiting for since May. The first day of school.
I tried to make some noise in the kitchen, so she would think she woke up on her own. No such luck.
I turned on every light. Nope.
I dug through every unpacked box, trying to find my camera. Which I did find, but it didn't do the job.
I sat on her bed and gently said her name. Guess what I got- the look of pure, unadulterated meanness. Then she rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.
It took 10 minutes to get her out of bed. I received pleas for 10 more minutes, orders to leave her alone, and lots of grunts. I finally told her that I was going to call her teacher and remove her from the class for the entire year.
Apparently, the thought of staying home with me for another day was too much for her to handle and she promptly got out of bed, got dressed, ate breakfast, brushed her teeth, and grabbed her book bag and waited for me at the door. Pausing only long enough for me to attempt braiding her hair just like Gram does it.
Why don't you leave, already?