Morning Glory

Every so often we have a great morning around here. A morning when all things just fall into place. Vanessa and Allison both sleep in just enough to let me get a few extra minutes of wake up time but not enough to make us rushed or late. Natalie wakes up happy and ready to start the day. She gets dressed without complaint and is agreeable when it comes time to brush her hair and teeth. Breakfast is served and we all eat while we laugh and talk around our dining room table. This morning was not one of those mornings.
I woke up to a tiny little finger poking me in the face. Not the best way to come out of dreamland. I opened my eyes to see Vanessa wide-eyed and wanting to watch some Dora. It was a good thirty minutes before we usually get up. I know thirty minutes doesn't sound like much, but when you are up several times throughout the night with a baby who won't sleep those minutes are essential. I groaned and lifted her up into bed with me, hoping she would lie down and snuggle with me for a bit. No such luck. She wiggled and squirmed until I finally gave in and we headed to the living room for our mandatory AM Dora watching. I laid down on the couch only to hear Allie begin stirring a second later. At that point I resigned myself to the fact that our day had begun.
Of course on the day the two little ones wake up early, Natalie decides she wants to sleep in. Every few minutes I would go into the bedroom, shake her still sleeping shoulders and tell her she needed to wake up and get ready for school. Finally I flipped on the light, pulled back the covers, and told her if she didn't get up right that very minute she was going to school in her panties and t-shirt. She reluctantly staggered out of bed. And that was the high point of the morning...it just went downhill from there.
I pulled out one of her favorite princess sweatshirts and some black leggings for her to change into and left the room. I went to prepare her lunch for school and as I was packing up her lunchbox I heard what can only be described as a howl from the bedroom. I ran to Nat, imagining broken bones or a bloody head. What I found was my six-year-old writhing on the floor with her pants pulled up only half way. "THESE PANTS ARE TOO TIGHT!!!" I reminded her that she had just worn those pants this weekend and declared them the only pants she could wear. Ever. "But they are too TIGHT," she cried. There were tears and screams and arms and legs thrashing about. And she was pretty upset too. She dug around in her drawers, leaving a pile of clean, perfectly fine clothes on the floor until she found a suitable pair of pants (one that she refused to wear to school last week because they were too LONG). I threw up my arms in surrender and ushered her into the bathroom. I won't even go into the battle that ensued when I went to brush her hair. Or the fight we had about whether or not five seconds was an acceptable length of teeth brushing time. Let's just say it wasn't pretty.
We finally got out the door and drove to school. I turned the radio loud and we all rode in a welcome silence. Just before we arrived at her school I pulled over to the side of the road and told Natalie to come to the front of the van. She did so with much trepidation. She knew that after the morning we had I wasn't a happy Mama. But when she got to me I pulled her into my arms and sat her on my lap. We hugged for a minute and then I told her that no matter what I always love her. I may have times when I don't like her much, but I always love her. She nodded and buried her face in my shoulder. I heard her muffled voice reply, "I love you too". I kissed the top of her head and she got back in her seat. We got the her school and before she climbed out she gave me our standard kiss and hug. "I love you Nat. Tomorrow we will get a better start to our day."