Mr. Sunshine

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I didn’t take this today, but he’s wearing this shirt again. I call it his Mr. Sunshine shirt.

One of the unsung benefits of having two children is that they’re not always on the same wavelength.

This morning (I’m writing this on the 19th, Anya’s 5th birthday) started with fussing and tears. I let Anya sleep in, because I’m a sweet mommy, especially on birthdays. And also a silly mommy — I thought that since she’d selected her outfit the night before and I’d packed her backpack already, she could simply slip into her dress and shoes and walk out the door. Ahahahaha.

First she tried to get out of going to school. She didn’t feel well.

“Okay, I’ll call the doctor.”

No, she didn’t feel that bad. How about going to Chuck E. Cheese instead?

Good one, kid. I think that’s where we caught this crud.

“I stay home with you, then.”

I’d love that. Seriously. But I can’t advocate truancy on her second day of pre-K. So I put my game face on and firmly presented her options: school or doctor. She chose school.

Then we had to get her dressed. What should have taken 30 seconds took 15 minutes. The shoes were wrong and the jacket was wrong and the rain coat is stupid and the other kids will laugh at her.

She adored this rain coat last year. She picked it out herself.

“Did someone laugh at you yesterday?” No. “Do you not like this rain coat anymore?” Shrugs. “Well, honey, it’s supposed to rain all day today; you need to wear a raincoat.”

Because I know that she will shed that rain coat the minute I leave, I also grab an umbrella for her. She left her umbrella at school yesterday, but luckily I have a backup. As she struggled into her raincoat, I quickly printed her name on the umbrella’s velcro flap in Sharpie and gave it to her. It’s a grown-up umbrella, not a kid one. Again, she selected it herself, and has been extremely proud to use it in the past. Today she acted like I was handing her a pink polka-dotted dog turd.

All this on half a cup of Tazo Zen.

Finally got her dressed and out the door, only 5 minutes behind schedule. But she was mopey and draggy and not her usual self. As I hugged her goodbye at preschool, I noticed tears in her eyes.

I left my daughter crying at school on her birthday. What the hell kind of mom does that?

I’ll spare you the storm cleanup traffic drama, but suffice to say that when I returned home I was spewing a string of profanities directed at someone who lives down the street for nearly hitting me head on. (On a residential street, no less!) I had zero cool left.

Grump.

Grump.

Grump.

Coming home did not help my mood: I still have all the unpacking to do, the kitchen and living room to clean, party decorations to put up, a cake to bake and decorate, laundry to wash (and fold, and put away), a t-shirt transfer to apply, presents to wrap, errands to run. And work to do on top of all that. All by 2:30 pm.

While I was getting things together to start my day, Kai woke up. He went to sleep a happy guy, and had good dreams all night long; both R and I noticed him laughing in his sleep. He certainly woke up on the right side of the bed — all morning long he’s been snuggly, pausing frequently during his nursing sessions to gaze adoringly at me and stroke my cheek. I’ve gotten several baby kisses and squeezy hugs. And everything is tickling his funny bone today; he’s a giggle box.

Thank goodness. I need a ray of sunshine on this gloomy, grumpy day.

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