How much of the day needs to be in the books before you can call 'mulligan'?

Hooray!  It's Wednesday!  Hump Day!  Half way to the weekend!  What could possibly go wrong on a beautiful day such as this?*

*We call this 'foreshadowing'.

Dylan and I both get up at 5:30 am during the week.  Well, I do, he's a much lighter sleeper and our evil evil cat has cottoned onto this and pretty much makes his life miserable several days of the week, today being no exception.  I slept great except for the disturbing dream right before waking that featured me being at my grandmother's funeral and when I finally gathered up the courage to look in her casket, she looked like she did when she was 70 (she died last year at age 95). Then she sat up and started talking and walking around which no one found the slightest bit odd.  I tried to tell them not to bury her, she was alive but of course no one listened.  Thankfully I woke up then as I pretty sure my subconscious could not handle my grandmother being buried alive.  (I blame this week's Leverage for that twisted little path.)

Ahem.

Anyway, we get up and go about our morning routine; showering, fixing lunches, fanasizing about coffee and get the kids up at 6:30.  It's always a treat to go into their rooms in the morning as we never know what we'll see; Noelle has been found with her feet on the pillow, with books and comic books covering every inch of the floor.  Noah sometimes will be sleeping on Bla Bla, sometimes Bla Bla will be strangling him, a lot of times doing the Baby Butt Salute.  Noah popped right up this morning, happy and chatty.  Noelle tried her damndest to remain dead to the world.  Spoiler alert:  she was not successful.

Now Wednesday has been water play day for Noelle this summer at her school/camp but on her daily report yesterday there was a note that water play had ended for the year thus bringing about Tears and Tantrum (TaT) One lasting off and on for about 15 minutes (Noah pushed out some sympathy tears.  Solidarity and all that.)  Getting this resolved, we herd everyone down for breakfast, Noelle still grumpy and teary, when Noah decides he's not in the mood for eating and GOOD LORD WOMAN, ENOUGH WITH THE FOOD PUSHING.  (For the record, I am not a food pusher.  What I am is not believing him when he says he's not hungry and hasn't finished his milk.) (The boy loves him some milk.  Hence my not believing him.)  Dylan, at this point, gets to escape and I have the fun task of rounding up hungry grumpy children and herding them back upstairs to finish getting ready to leave.  I will spare you the details but suffice it to say that it takes a good 15 minutes to get 2 kids' hands washed, teeth brushed, hair combed and faces washed.  I just...GAH.

But wait, there's more! Now we have to puts shoes on! And argue/fight over the videogame/dry erase markers/comic books/WHATEVER. It is now 7:25.  My goal is to lock the door at 7:15; you can see where this is going.  So FINALLY with three backpacks and assorted and sundry accoutrements, we leave whereby Noah takes off running down the sidewalk.  Used to it, no biggie, we move on.  Relative good moods all around....until we have to get into the van.

I keep a supply of 'pops' in the center console to reward good behavior from the day/bribe for a minute's silence and they know this.  Noah, however, doesn't seem to care that pops are not an appropriate early morning food especially when one has deigned to not eat his breakfast.  I'm sure his teachers would love me for sending him to school on a simple sugar high.  He can also open the center console and procure a pop for himself.  He did.  I took it away.  He grabbed another one and did the old 'bob 'n weave' trying to protect his pop from the evil clutches of Teh Mommy in the rathe confined space of the backseat. (He was not successful either.)  Being relieved of his precious pop set off a swear-to-God 10 minute TaT complete with full extension twisting and turning limp noodle refusal to be buckled into his seat.  I was getting more and more frustrated, sweaty and oh yeah, LATE by the second with him wailing 'Go HOME!' alternating with 'Hugs!' He's finally installed in his seat pop-less screaming and sobbing and hiccuping; if he had thrown up I wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest.

Onto school without further incident unless you count my blood pressure and heartrate being higher that recommended for buckling small children into their carseats but whatever. Not on the same page were they this morning.  He calms down and up she ramps, this time over my snapping at her for her being frustrated about not being able to get her backpack out when I offered to do it originally.  She sulks/pouts 'I can't do it!' which then plucked my last nerve leading me to snap 'Get out of the van!' She immediately starts crying because I was mean to her/hurt her feelings and I just really didn't care at that moment.  She's on the sidewalk, I'm breathing heavily and get him out.  Noah, he's right as rain now...until we walk into his classroom where he dissolved into TaT Three upon sight of his teacher.  So now I have Noelle still upset from my snapping at her, Noah freaking out over being left at school and me on the verge of hysterical laughter.  His teacher comes back in and attempts to take him so I can leave but he has a death grip on my collar.  She keeps saying to me, 'Give him here, I've got him' to which I'm finally forced to respond that yes you do but he also has his fist twisted in my collar and I can't move!

Noelle and I head down the hall listening to absolutely heart-rending screams emanating from his classroom.  If I wasn't so royally pissed off at the both of them, I would have been more moved but I was so I wasn't.

I love my children with every fiber of my being; most of the time I really like them too. This was not one of those times.  Once I got to work and calmed down, my mind was clear enough to review the events of the morning.  There was lots I could/should have done differently but am very glad that I kept my head enough to not snap that I didn't much like either of them even though it was the honest-to-god truth.  It's rare that I'm happier to be at work than with them but I'll own it, I was this morning.

But that doesn't mean that I like it.