Jason and I are not much for mornings. I say this with some sadness, as you'd think that more than ten years into our professional lives, we'd be accustomed to waking up on time. Especially given that for 6 of them my work day started at 7am. This is not to say our day doesn't start early-- because while we are not morning people, as luck would have it-- our kids are.
But what is this business with it still being dark at 6am? Come on. How am I supposed to wake up when it's still dark out? I've worked hard to train our son that when it's dark, it's night time (and that means he should be in bed, asleep). So when Marcie awoke at 5:50am, why on earth did I go back to bed after feeding her the bottle? Because when it's dark, it's night time.
Ugh. I'm impressed I only got out the door 20 minutes late, given that I'd only left myself 20 minutes to shower, dress, make lunch, feed Casey, feed Marcie, help both kids get dressed, and write a quick note to the speech therapist. The note to the speech therapist was all for naught though, as luck would have it.
Apparently not only was I sleepy this morning, but so was Jason. Because around 9:15am, I received a voicemail message from Casey's speech therapist explaining that Casey's grandmother was there at 9:ooam to pick him up, but Casey had never arrived this morning. WHAT?!? My heart sank. I dialed Jason's cell phone in a panic. No answer. Crap. Where could they be? Were they in a car accident? Did he just forget?
Next, I called the preschool-- and they told me Casey had been there all morning. PHEW! And I guess I wasn't the first one to call the preschool to check (when the speech therapist didn't get me or my husband on our cell phones, she called the preschool, too).
So it's a new routine. We'll figure it out. It'll be fine. But heck if I didn't nearly have a heart attack this morning.