A Morning in the Life of a Scatter-Brained Mom

Ok, so this morning I roll over to look at the clock, and it's 8:15. Yes, 8:15!!! Tristan has to be at school at 9, so I immediately jump up and jump in the shower. I rush around getting ready, getting the kids clothes ready, and preparing breakfast. I get the kids to the table, give them their food and dash off to get dressed. The whole time Tristan's eating, I'm nagging, "Hurry up, Tristan. You have to get dressed. Hurry."

Ok, so he finishes eating, gets on his orange monkey shirt (very important fact) and plaid shorts. I get Asher out of his chair, he's got milk all over his shirt, but I have no time to change him. I've got to get Tristan to school.

I rush the boys out to the car, pull into the car line (at almost THE very last minute). That's when I see it...a little boy in a red shirt. It hit me like a ton of bricks...

TRISTAN WAS SUPPOSED TO WEAR A RED SHIRT TODAY! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!

At this point, I feel like a horrible mom for forgetting and for knowing that my sweet little boy is going to walk into his class wearing an orange shirt while all his friends are wearing red...NOT GOOD. So as we pull up, I tell him, "Tristan, Mommy was supposed to put you in red. I'm going to run home and get you a red shirt, then I'll run back and give it to you. I'm SO sorry! I'll be right back...".

I call Channing and tell him I'm going to be extra late, I rush home, run upstairs and search for a red shirt. Of course, the first thing I find is one of his red Georgia jerseys...during ALABAMA/GEORGIA week. What to do, what to do, what to do? I mean, I want my kid to pull for the Tide and the Tide only this week (ok, not just the Tide...the Vols too).
I ended up having to look past myself and my wishes, grab the jersey and a pair of black shorts (I mean, how bad would a red jersey look with tan, orange, and brown plaid shorts?).

I fly back up to the school. I get Asher out of his seat and notice a super foul smell. Greaaaat! I run in, and as I'm passing chapel, I see his class. Since I don't want to barge in there yelling, "Tristan! Tristan, I have your red shirt!", I give his clothes to the secretary, who is pretty amused that I am so worried about him having a red shirt (it's traumatic for a four year old, though). As I'm leaving, I try not to cry. I mean, I totally screwed up. But nevertheless, it was over, he had his clothes, and I could head to work. Now I had Asher's dirty diaper to tackle.


So I pull up to the office and head straight back to the bathroom. I pull his pants down, and much to my surprise, he has a mammoth, disgusting #2. I mean, it was BAD! It was all over his little body and clothes. Oh yeah. Gross. And guess what?! I didn't have a change of clothes.
So AGAIN, I had to head back home to get him changed. How frustrating! This time, I did it right, though. I got him a Bama t-shirt. I mean, the boys needed some balance. If one school is represented, the other must be too.

Ok, so this all happened by 10:00 this morning. How's your morning going?