Wednesday, April 10, 2013


If procrastination was an Olympic sport The Boy would be the Michael Phelps of the event.

I have just sent him packing off to school after fucking WWXXXXXXII. We have more arguments than WWE has smackdowns and it makes me weary.

I'm pretty sure half the time he doesn't even realize he's doing it, and I think that's what frustrates me the most about it. He has three things to do in the morning. THREE.
Get to School on time.

I've even resorted to writing these 'tasks' down and posting them on the fridge as a reminder for him. But day in, day out, the first hour of my day is spent arguing about his 'ailment of the day', what's for breakfast, the amount of time it takes to eat that breakfast, the amount of time it takes to get dressed, what footwear will be allowed by me, choosing a touque (a knit hat) and a half a dozen or so other small arguments about non essential things - at the very point where my blood pressure has finally hit the roof and there is no time to spare, he requests a ride to school.

Are you fucking kidding me? 

First off I haven't had a coffee yet. Don't mess with me until I've had at least one cup. Even Spouse knows that rule.

So because you danced around in your gotch, picked at your breakfast, changed your shirt 6 times,  punched the Hurricane, admired yourself in the bathroom mirror and wandered aimlessly through the house for 10 minutes all the while I am in the back ground chirping, let's get moving, let's hustle, you're going to be late...after all of this you WANT A RIDE?  A 2 minute ride? to the school? that's a block away?
Did you fall and bang your fucking head?

This morning routine is nothing new. It's been going on for ages. I had to stop and ask myself how on earth I did this every single damned day when I was working. Getting both The Boy and Hurricane dressed and fed, my self showered and dressed and then all of us including King Procrastination out the door.
The only thing that has changed is that he is walking to school now. The 'dump and run' of this working mom is no longer.

Many a morning I was ready, in the car - with it running, while King Procrastination lumbered down the walk. Every halting step of his making my blood boil as I watched the clock. I can only imagine my face as it appeared to him through the glass, like some demented mime screaming with no sound. I'm surprised he never broke down into laughter.

Now that I've had a cup of joe, and slowed my breathing, I'm rethinking my tactics. You see, we've recently been advised that The Boy has a Learning Disability, memory deficiencies and a small chance that he's ADD. (a story for another time) This new insight into his mind and the way he thinks gives us some new tools to work with and a new perspective for getting him to stay on task. I just have to remember to breathe.

This week's lesson will be a refresher on respect for others, accountability and being responsible.
THREE things, I'll make a list and post it on the fridge.  


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