So. Meghan’s new school is great. REALLY great. Her entire countenance has changed, thanks to a little bit of intellectual stimulation. I knew that about her already – that when she’s bored, she’s miserable, and when she’s challenged, she’s happy. But it’s still really cool to see. We knew without a shred of doubt that God knit her together and knows her and knows exactly what she needs and where she needs to be, and He is powerful enough to provide it. And He did. Which is very cool.
The adjustment for her has been pretty smooth. Mama’s having a little bit of a hard time in the mornings because, y’know, I have to WAKE UP. In the old days, I would…
OK. Hang on. Let me make something perfectly clear before I continue. I am not lazy. I really do work my tail off taking care of these three little people and the house and the husband and everything else except the bills and the taxes because, y’know, I’m an English major. I don’t do math.
So I’m not lazy. But I am also not a morning person. Not even close. I really love to sleep. I love my bed. But I’m not lazy.
Now that we’ve cleared that up.
In the old days, I would roll out of bed, pour some cereal, slap some peanut butter on some bread, throw it in a lunchbag, and roll back into bed. Meghan would then climb into bed with me, read her devotional, and we’d pray together. (Which you can do with your eyes closed and lying on a pillow.) Then she would leave to catch the bus, and Griffin would come in for his devo time. Then I’d set the timer on my watch and go back to sleep until it was time for Griffin to leave for school, at which time I’d roll out of bed, make sure he’s wearing his bike helmet, wait for the neighbor’s kid to show up at our house…and wait…and wait…and wait…(he’s not exactly prompt), wave to the neighbors passing by who must be thinking, “who is that crazy lady in the pink reindeer pajamas and bed head?” then once the neighbor’s kid finally showed up, I’d crawl back into bed until it was time to get Nathan up for school.
See? Not a morning person.
But lo, those days are over and gone. No more sleeping in. These days, the morning routine involves cereal, peanut butter, devotionals and LET’S GO! LET’S GO! LET’S GO! and pulling Nathan out of his bed much earlier than he’d like, only to have him crawl back in and put the covers over his head, then pulling him out again so we can get in the car and drive Meghan across town to her blessed new location of education.
And that really is OK because that’s what moms do. And I really am very, very happy because she is so happy and this is exactly where she needs to be.
Nathan and I have found a light spot of joy in these early morning awakenings. It’s called Big Fat Liar.
We LOVE Big Fat Liar!
There’s a radio station who does this segment every morning at the same time. The news guy tells a story. The traffic lady tells a story. And then the husband/wife DJs tell their stories. Three of them tell the truth, and one of them tells a lie. And most mornings, it’s really hard to know who is the
BIG! FAT! LIAR!
Oh, but wait. The funniest part of the whole thing? The lead-in clips that announce the segment, which of course includes Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson from A Few Good Men. You know what I’m talking about. So now Nathan – my adorable, precious, precocious, almost 5-year old – chimes in every morning:
“I want the twooth! You can’t handle the twooth!”
Which makes me laugh and makes me so sad all at the same time because I think about how handsome and adorable and wonderful was Tom Cruise in latter years before he got all psycho and started jumping on couches and stole away our little Joey from Dawson, who really was stolen by Pacey but should have been stolen away by Dawson but instead was stolen away by freaky Tom Cruise who is jumping on Oprah’s couch and yelling at Matt Lauer and just being a crazy psycho idiot.
(See? Too little sleep.)
And that’s the twooth.