The Husband’s hours change on a daily basis, and the only good thing about that is that since I have had Madeline, I’ve only had to take Nicholas to school in the morning on three days so far … which is a darn good thing since getting Nicholas, Madeline and me dressed and fed and out the door to get him to school on time is no easy feat. Friday was one such day.
My goal is to get all three of us dressed and downstairs before Madeline is alert enough to decide she’s hungry. This way, I save multiple trips up and down the stairs. I was s-o close on Friday. Nicholas – up and dressed. Madeline – up and dressed. Me? Not so much. We all trooped downstairs nonetheless and I started working on getting the kids fed. By the time that was done, we had to dash to get Nicholas to school on time, and me getting dressed just wasn’t happenin’.
Honestly, I wear sweats and a t-shirt to bed so it’s not like I was tromping off to his school in some risque lounge wear. I wasn’t especially worried. As Nicholas got on his coat and hat, he spied me putting on my sneakers.
“You’re not getting dressed?” he asked, with great concern in his voice.
“No, honey, there’s no time. But it’s ok. These are just sweatpants, so people won’t know they’re my pajamas if we don’t tell them,” I said, trying to reassure him and get the baby bundled up.
“Right, like you were just out jogging.”
Uh huh. ‘Cause before 8 am, on my own with two kids to get ready and out the door, I would seriously believe that there was time for jogging … but as long as OTHERS believed it, we’re good.
So heading to school, I pull up in front and grab Madeline’s car seat and go around to open Nicholas‘ door for him. We made it to school on time, and I’m feeling pretty good with myself. Just need to walk him into the door, then head back home to work. Everything was fine until I was approaching the school’s front glass door … and caught a reflection of myself… black coat, shirt, sweatpants and sneakers. No problem, right? Well, except for the fact that my sweatpants fell about three or four inches shy of coming to the tops of my sneakers, no, no problem. Sigh. Lovely. Hoping no one would notice, I focused on the task at hand … getting in and out.
As soon as I walked through the front door, I know I’m in trouble. Four moms are inside, none of whom have seen Madeline yet, and the school secretary. We’re instantly swarmed. Hopefully they were completely entranced by Madeline’s cuteness to notice my fashion don’ts. One can only hope.