Drop Off

it was a hard morning for drop off.

I kissed Scully & Khubz goodbye and headed out the door to warm up the cars and head towards work. While I was enjoying Shakira's La Tortura over & over & over again, Scully was having a harder morning.

She picks Khubz up from her booster seat where she has eaten taquitos--a breakfast that is impossible to smear in her hair or on her clothes. Khubz is brushed off, bundled in to her jacket, the backup gloves are employed because I left her primary gloves in the truck yesterday. She is ready to go! Scully picks her up, keys in hand and the child's pants are sopping wet. She has peed through her diaper.

Off goes the coat, you have to take off her shoes to get her pants off and once you take off her shoes you then have to fight the girl to keep her socks on. . . you know how it goes. On goes a new diaper, the girl fighting FIghTInG! every step of the way. Then Scully has to get clean jeans on her, restore the socks, get the shoes back on, get the jacket and the hat and the gloves (both of them) back on and get ready to go AGAIN. . .

Then there was the battle about whether or not she could take her book with her to daycare. . . FINE, mama says. Let's just get a move on! And, of course, when you put Khubz in the carseat you have to momentarily take the book out of her hands to get her strapped in. These was the straw that broke the Khubz's back.

It was a very hard morning.
Sorry Scully!