Preschool Morning

I thought the days of disaster were finally abating a bit. You know what I mean: the days where nothing you do seems to matter. Your best efforst at house keeping end in a kitchen that is unrecognizable and a living room where there is only a small pathway of clean carpet to walk on. Having kids only 8 months apart has given me a glimpse of chaos never before imagined. We some how,survived the imfant stage. I adapted to feeding both babies on my lap at the same time. Quite the challenge as there were two bottles, two kids and only two hands...my feet and legs of necessity became dexterous. I used to crumple into bed at night wondering what the midnight hours would bring and silently praying I would have the strength to keep up. Would I survive this?

Then they turned two...during winter. That was the longest winter of my memory, although the chaos being ever present, I have a mental block as to what actually happened that winter. So, here we are in the preschool stage. We have had the most marvelous summer. The girls can get into the car by themselves. They can even put on their own buckles. Cassidi is potty trained and doing wonderful. Preschool has started. She is also in dance. She loves both and is such a little lady. She does throw a tantrum that could rival an angry bear, just out of hibernation, but they take on a sixteen your old stuffed into a three your old body, flair. It is an amazing scene, that makes me marvel at how much volume one small 30 pound body can produce.

Clanci has been my calming joy, up until this morning. She has been as sweet as her melted chocolate eyes protest to be. She has been my hugger and lover. She aptly calls Cassidi a "Wat" when she is being a "brat". She is funny and makes me laugh with her one-liners that come from random movies she watches. For example: "I'm not important? Well, I'll show you!" I think that comes from the Tinkerbell movie.

That brings us to this morning. First of all Travis is out of town. When dad is gone, even for a short time, the houshold seems to tilt on it's barely blanced axis and everything goes tumbling down in the wrong direction.

To begin the morning I woke up remembering I left the water running in the orchard, all night. Running outside I realized I had flodded the woodshed that sits below the orchard. Nice. Coming back inside, I remembered that I need to make cookies for Cassidi's preschool. I began to clear a small hole in my kitchen, from yesterdays attempt at bottling carrots from the garden, to quickly create a batch of the quickest cookies I could muster.

Meanwhile, Clanci, in one of those rare but recently reoccurring moments, decides to cry and pout at who knows what. I tell her to go to her room and cry , as the sound she produces is loud enough to make your brain bash against your skull, like a bouncy ball. She goes to her room and screams even louder, if that's possible, when I shut the door to try and give myself a sound barrier. The screaming goes on for an entire hour, with small intermissions when Cassidi ( as frantic as I) takes in toys and treats as peace-offerings. Clanci stops the caterwauling long enough to hurl what ever item is given to her across the room. At this point my blood pressure is sky-rocketing, I go into her room to talk rationally with her and find myself screaming above the din that she is not to come out of this room until she can be nice, and with a semi-controlled temper I exit the danger-zone with a slam of the door. I stomp down the hallway to see Cassidi's sad eyes looking at me, I believe she is mourning the loss of a play-mate. I forbid Cass to go into the room and firmly decide that Clanci will stay in there all day if necessary.

Back in the kitchen, I finish the no-bake cookies and pray they set up before it's time to go. Breakfast. Glancing at the clock I know we don't have much time. I quickly whip up scrambled eggs and put bacon on to fry. While that is cooking I dress Cassidi and am doing her hair when I smell bacon burning. Great. The smell of burnt bacon in permeating the house and I have to open all the windows to air everything out. Meanwhile, Cassidi is crying because I left her perched on the counter with only a half a head of hair braided. Running back to Cassidi, I finish her hair and then rush to put breakfast on the table. Clanci is still scraming, but now the screams have taken on actual words, when I concetrate hard I can decipher she is saying, "I am ready to be nice."

Going into her room I gather up the swollen-eyed girl, and she calms down. "Are you ready to be nice?" "Yes", she says. I undress her and she asks in the sweetest voice if she can wear underwear. Sensing her emotions are sill on edege and not wanting to push her into another fit, I agree (bad idea). I dress her and finally get up to the table. Breakfast went well. Both girls ate like they were famished. Now, I was feeling some success and like all overly-ambitious people, decided I could accomplish one thing more. My hair. Could today be the day, when I actually did my hair and make-up before 5pm? Feeling a ray of hope shine through the chaos I dove toward the light.

First things first. "Clanci, please go sit on the potty. Remember, you have underwear on and you don't want to pee in them." "No, Mom, I don't need to go." "Are you sure?" "Yes" "Okay , but if you need to go, make sure you go on the potty." She's gone to the potty by herself many times and I know she is capable of doing it again, so I rush to my room and began to ready myself for the day. Not five minutes later, two chocolate-brown eyes peak around the corner in all their sweetness to inform me that she needs a diaper. "Did you pee in your underwear?" "yes" came the very high-pitched timid reply. "Clanci! I just aked you if you needed to go to the potty!"

What's the use? I know better than to believe a two year old. What was I thinking? A few minutes later a very quiet, seemingly repentent Clanci brings me a diaper. I put it on her and look at the clock. Time to go. I rush into the kitchen to pack the cookes into Cassidi's backpack, along with her show and tell. Racing through the entry way, I slip on a puddle of something. Looking down at my bare-feet I see yellow pee, oozing between my toes and soaking into the bottom of my jeans.