My beautiful little boy...

When Brad’s in town he handles the kids in the mornings.  It helps him get up and going as he works from home when not traveling which he does about 1/3 of the time.  Brad’s gone through Wednesday so the annoying, suck-the-life-out-of-me delightful, best-things-in-my-life kids are all mine (again I can’t stress enough how in awe I am with single parents).  When it’s me in the morning I get Ted out of the house to the bus by about 7:25ish and then usually Jack is chomping at the bit to leave right behind him because he LOVES morning care at his school.  This is great for me as I’m out of the mom business quickly I’m not only always on time to work when Brad’s out of town, but I’m usually early – Bonus!

This morning for the first time ever, I attempted to get on the treadmill in the morning while I have morning kid duty.  I usually do it in the afternoons if Brad’s away, but I thought I’d give it a try, with at least a quick trip on the treadmill this morning.  (and I’m planning on trying my zumba discs tonight with the kids, I’m thinking it’ll be fun, I’ll get some more exercise and hopefully it’ll keep me from killing them.)

Anyway – I’m up and on the treadmill by 6 which was cutting it a little close, but I figured I’d do 36 minutes (my current session minimum – it increases by 1 minute each week, though I almost always do more than the minimum) and all would be well.  It worked out fine, though it was seriously hard to even get through that much for some reason this morning – but it is what it is.  Got Ted, who never met a morning he didn’t despise which is extra special given his burgeoning teenage hormones, up and out with little issues.  Was running a little behind, but no real problems.  Just going to throw some makeup on my face then pack my lunch and we’re off.  Jackson comes into my bathroom at about 7:45.

Jack: Mom, I need a picture of Ben Roethlisberger.

Me: Um… now?

J: yeah.

M: It’s too late now, you should have told me earlier.

J: But I have to have it

M: (putting on mascara and silently cursing the gods) Why do you need it?

J: For my hero paper

M: (Oh Jesus Fucking Christ! Deep breath, smile openly at my young son.)  You picked Ben Roethlisberger as your hero for a paper?

J: yeah (My baby of such eloquence)

M: Honey, Ben is not the right guy to be your hero.  He’s not a good enough man.  He’s a great football player, but definitely not hero material. (no way are we having a discussion about sexual assault before 8am on a Tuesday).

J: (near tears) But I’ve already written the paper and I need a picture.

C: (showing considerable restraint) Babe, we are usually gone by now and you pick this moment to tell me you need a picture?  You should have told me last night.

J: (eyes now spilling over) I keeeeeep fooooorrrgeetttiing.

C: (Oh dear God, seriously, we’re going to have crying over fucking idiot boy Roethlisberger).  Before we leave, I’ve got to make my lunch, finish getting the house ready for the cleaners, pull out the sheets and get your lunch ready and finish putting my makeup on (which was really done, but still, I was annoyed) and now you want me to add finding and printing an appropriate picture to the list in the next 7 minutes?

J: I could find the picture

C: No, you can go make sure there’s nothing on the ground the cleaners might suck up in the vacuum.

Picture found and printed, house readied, lunches made – grab the picture off the downstairs printer…. And it only printed the top fifth of the picture.  Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.  Do not yell at the boy, the printer problem is not his fault.  (The printer(s) and my Mac have never been friends and have caused many a gray hair – but Brad assured me it was all fixed before he left.)  Just then as I’m running back upstairs to the laptop to see what the problem was Brad called.  Seriously honey – I don’t have time for you now – the printer stopped and Jack needs a fucking picture.  I dispense with Brad and wheel around to run upstairs to try printing again and my cute little boy, sensing his mommy’s frustration says.  Well, I don’t really need it today.

Me: (I’m not sure why he thought this would lower my stress level) Uh.. .WHAT?!?  I’ve been running around looking for, finding, then fighting with the printer about a picture you don’t really need, and now you mention you don’t need it?  Seriously?

J: Well I don’t think I have to bring it in today?

M: (with a fake, plastic smile on my face which is what kept me from lunging at him) When might it be due?

J: I’m not sure, but most everybody else already brought theirs in.

M: (said in the sing-song voice used by those who inhabit insane asylums for long periods of time) It’s okay dear, I’ll just get that printer working and we’ll get  you your picture and we’ll be off.  Is that okay dear?  Oh and PICK UP THE PAPER AND THE LEASH. (smiling again) Okay, I’ll be right back sweetie.