Thankfully, this morning was extremely smooth, which is something that hasn't happened in a long time...especially when both boys are home. They were kind, courteous, and helpful to each other. I might've checked under their beds for evidence that pod people had been there. I'm not kidding. About halfway through breakfast, Justin called to see if he could come get N for breakfast. All of a sudden, N was "full" and ready to go to school. Imagine that.
B and I finished getting him ready for school, and then we took off. He even took the trash out for me. I checked the hall closet on the way out the door. Pod people keep their pods in the most obvious places sometimes. B kind of took his sweet time this morning, so when I dropped him off, he had about 10 minutes to get to class. N had been gone for half an hour, so I was sure he beat his brother to school.
I was totally wrong. As I was headed home, I saw Justin and N pulling out of our friendly, neighborhood Market Street, where they had been eating breakfast. Again. Two breakfasts. Growing boy, I guess. Anyway, at this point, he had roughly 5 minutes to get to his class, which is exactly why I don't like these breakfast dates. They need to begin earlier so they can end earlier. Or not at all. I know, I know...at least he wants to see him. True. I'm not complaining, but I dislike being late or being rushed, and I now N does as well.
I went home, ready to crawl back into bed, but I decided to be a grown-up instead, and started deep cleaning certain areas of the house. It can be overwhelming, so today was the kitchen/dining room, hallway, laundry/entry, and the boys' bathroom. Tomorrow, I'll tackle some more. It's good to have goals. So, I cleaned for several hours...THEN I decided to rest my eyelids. It was warranted, right? Right.
When the boys got home, I asked N if he was rushed this morning, and he lied. When I told him I saw him, he said, "We would've had no trouble, but then Courtney was at Market Street, so it took forever." His stepmom came to be a part of the little one-on-one time they get. And he was not happy about it...it's not that he wants to completely pretend she doesn't exist, he just wants a little time with just his dad. And I don't blame him one bit.
Meanwhile, B had decided to play catch with the 8 year-old who lives in the next building, and then came in to see if N wanted to go to the playground to play. So, off they went. When they came home a little later, they played Xbox for a minute while I made dinner, and then, since we had dinner pretty early, I sent them outside again. At 6:20, B comes in, with a terrified look on his face. Where's his baseball glove? He has no idea. It's not anywhere in the house, and someone took it. Who? He has no idea.
He retraced his steps, and I told him he was grounded for a month if he couldn't find it. Nothing like fear to motivate a kid...I have to hand it to him. He asked the boy he'd been playing catch with, and he directed him to the other boy who'd joined their game. He said the fourth boy had it, but he didn't know which building he lived in, but another boy did. I told B to handle it, and then I didn't see him for a while. He'd met up with N at the playground, and when I tracked them down, B had the glove in hand. He was elated, but he's still grounded from video games for a few days.
Why? Because we must learn to keep up with our belongings. We must take care of our baseball gear. And because all they do when they play video games together is fight...dirty. So, by eliminating privileges, my life is easier. Plus, tomorrow's the last day of school for the week.
On the agenda: tacos, dyeing eggs with Kool-Aid, and movie night.
B's been begging to dye eggs for a week...and he doesn't even like eggs.
Period.
Aubs
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