A Morning in the Life of a Fletcher

I'm terrible at blogging lately. Our lives are boring, and the truth is, now that we've been blogging for over a year, I realized we've already blogged about everything we do. Everything. I guess every year we just repeat over again all the things we did the year before. Every Halloween we do the same things as the year before. Every Thanksgiving. Every Christmas. Every birthday. Every outing--to the park, or the lake, or the mall. So I feel like I'm repeating myself over and over again when I blog. However, the kids look different every year. And I hate to go a whole month without blogging much because then we can't look back later and remember what we did that month. So I had to find something I could blog about, even though nothing new has happened. At all. So I just pulled out my camera this morning and documented our morning. It doesn't get much more boring that that.

5:45--Steve and Jenn wake up and do their stuff. (I hadn't thought of the camera yet, so no pictures. Luckily for you. I am super scary-looking in the morning. And my breath is bad, too, but camera's don't pick that up anyway. Hmm, I wonder if they will in the future...)

6:20--Noelle comes downstairs. In a hysterical voice, "I'm hungry, Momma, hungry..."

6:30--Kids get up and do jobs (get dressed, make bed, read scriptures, practice piano).

If the kids finish their jobs before 7:30, then they can watch this show:

7:20--I found Isaac doing just that.

Except his bed still looked like this, so I had to spend five minutes threatening him to get back on track:

7:25--Laura finishes getting ready in the bathroom.

7:25--The great magnet in our home wielding it's power...

...for everyone but Laura.

7:30--Breakfast.

8:00--Okay, now this is when the problems always start. It drives me crazy. They know what to do. We've done it a thousand time. Brush teeth, get on shoes, get on jacket. Brush teeth, get on shoes, get on jacket. Why oh why for the love of Curious George can't they do it independently??? Why must the last fifteen minutes of our time together be a constant fight. "Lincoln, put your shoes on. Lincoln, put your shoes on. Lincoln, PUT YOUR SHOES ON!!! Isaac, get your jacket on. Isaac, your jacket, please. Isaac, YOUR JACKET!!!" And Laura starts hyperventilating, "You're going to make me late!!!" I swear, if I left my boys alone, they would sit in their underwear all day and stare at the ceiling thinking of Star Wars. At what point are they going to be capable of doing these things on their own? At what age should I be able to say, "Get your shoes on," and they do it right away? Or, heck, what about just plain old putting their shoes on without any prompting at all because they know they are leaving the house and can't go out in socks? Am I going to have to go with my boys to work when they are in their forties and follow them around saying, "Now staple your proposal. Staple it. Staple it. Come on, now, that's it. Now hand it to your boss. That way. Go on. That's it. Good boy. You earned your hour of video games this week." Geez.

8:17.

8:20--I dropped Laura and Lincoln off at the crosswalk closest to their lines.

8:23--I dropped Isaac off at the front of the school...or as close to it as I could get. But he was angry with me because he thought I dropped him off too far away.

I submit the proof that it was the closest I could get:

8:27--Once again spotting the cop for the fourth time that morning while dropping my kids off. Carefully checking my speedometer and then taking a picture. (Wondering if I could get in trouble taking a picture of a cop the way I got in trouble taking a picture at customs at the border in Canada). Then back home for the really interesting part of my day. Sorry, no pictures and running commentary. (You're all relieved, admit it.)