Before any of you get too excited, the lateness I refer to in the title of this post is nothing to do with my monthlies. No, the MessyBlog clan will not be expanding… yet.
The tardiness refers to Dexter and his inability to function on a preschool morning. Or any morning.
If my mum is to read this post, I’m sure she will take great delight knowing that what I probably put her through I’m now getting back…. tenfold.
Let’s start with trying to get him out of bed. This is actually worse than trying to shift a teenager out of his pit. The boy just will not budge. I have to physically carry him out of the bed and drag him downstairs where he then proceeds to wrap himself in his blanky.
I’ll ask him several times what he wants for breakfast only to be greeted with “nothing” or “I don’t want anything” repeated several times before finally deciding on whatever cereal we ran out of yesterday! Cue tantrum because he can’t have it.
When we eventually agree on something we have that he is willing to eat, he wants to mess about between each mouthful. How can it possibly take 45 minutes to eat a bowl of cereal that on any other day is devoured within 5?
Then, getting dressed… Nope, just not worth the fight, I’ll do that bit myself. If, that is, I can keep his legs still enough to get his socks on.
“Dexter, will you stay still?! You need to get dressed or we will be late!! AGAIN!!!”
Getting him to brush his teeth is a whole new battle. I’ve sent him to preschool without doing them once because I just didn’t have the fight in me to make him do it. I’m not mean enough to make him go without breakfast, especially if he’s there all day but teeth brushing, Urgh! You can do that when you get home! Twice!
Of course, when he does brush his teeth, he gets toothpaste everywhere and I have to change his top. Like getting him dressed the first time wasn’t hard enough.
It’s now time we should be leaving but of course he’s moved his lunchbox away from the door. I put it there so we don’t forget it and he’s wandered off with it and put it somewhere else. I ask him to get his shoes while I look for it. He hears this as ‘start getting your toys out’ 5 minutes later, I’ve got his lunchbox (he’s taken it to the loo with him and it was behind his step) and he still has no shoes. I get Paisley in her buggy and get his shoes myself. I put them on and get his coat. We’re now about 10 minutes late already and we still haven’t left. He doesn’t want the coat I’ve picked. I mutter under my breath something about picking my battles as I grab a different coat.
Hooray! We’re out the door. Get his helmet on and we are now literally running (well, he’s on his bike but I’m running) to try and get there on time. He does that thing that kids find so much fun where the path splits in 2 and he goes the wrong way so I have to wait for the path to join back up while he’s off on his jolly, little detour.
As we get to preschool, I notice there are no other parents around. Damn it, I bet the gates locked! We get to the back and the gate is still open, Just!
His teacher is just wheeling in the lunch bag trolley and shutting the door.
Dexter clings to me and has a bit of a silent sulk but he goes in and I go home! Urgh! What a drama!
Same again next week?