The advent of fall has nothing to do with the changing leaves or brisk air or the shorter days or that special fall scent or anything vaguely romantic. No. In our house, the beginning of fall is signaled by the morning’s routine. Suddenly everyone has to be up, clean, dressed, fed, and out the door by 8:00 am. Mornings cease to be peaceful and become frenetic on good days and chaotic on bad ones.
#1 and #2 seem to know, instinctually, that school has begun. In the fall they seem more difficult to wake and seem to move more slowly. The Mother’s monopoly on the bathroom is now disrupted by #1 and #2 traipsing in and out, each vying for part of the mirror or the sink. Back to their rooms, #1 and #2 pick out clothes, get distracted, dress, and look for their book bags. Then downstairs for breakfast, shoes on, and out the door to cart them off to school.
In all this my role is that of wrangler. I try to keep them all on track and moving. To ensure that things run smoothly, I try to keep them from running into each other. If any stray to far, I’m there nudging them back on track. If any lag behind, I’m there urging them forward.
In the words of #2: “Without Daddy, we’re just three messed up jelly beans.”
I am the Jelly Bean Wrangler.