Croissants, milk and valium

So mornings with 2 school aged children are a blast right?! Now Oli-in-the-middle has joined Jbird at primary school, mornings have taken on a slightly nightmarish quality. Trying to get 3  children up, fed, dressed, cleaned and out the door seems to be taking superhuman displays of organisation and planning at the moment. I clearly failed this morning as when we got to school my friend Stef pointed out that Leni-lou still had yesterday's carbonara lunch in her hair. Parenting fail. In my defence yesterday was a work day for me and these are usually the days where my chidren will hustled out the door to Stef's (my friend and childminder) still half asleep, clutching the remnants of breakfast (which reminds me, there's a half eaten croissant in my handbag from Oli-in-the-middle's refusal to eat breakfast this morning, my theory was thus; if he can eat it whilst scootering to school, maybe it will be more appealing. parenting fail numero deux of the day) You can also bet your bottom dolar on the fact that they won't get bathed in the evening, after an hour stuck on the bus from Gloucester after work, all I'm usually good for is a perfunctory teeth clean, flannel wash and speed read bedtime story. Monday and Fridays are not my glory days parenting wise.

Life not being complicated enough in the morning, I decided to throw in having to get Jbird to do his homework whilst trying to get Ol to finish his 'what I did on my summer holidays' project (I tell you what he DIDN'T do on his summer holidays and that's his 'what I did on my summer holidays' project, because if he had I wouldn't have been chivvying him along trying to remind him of what he did whilst shoving milk and croissants at the other 2 children) Cue mad scramble trying to find photos of summer holiday activities, any art he may have done (none by the way, he did none, so I had to raid his playgroup end of year project and rip off some old artwork as summer holiday stuff) and get him to write his name. All this was done whilst stopping Leni-lou from shoving lego up her nose and helping Jbird answer questions about what method Victorian farmers used to get their animals to market (a cart ... I hope, or that'll be parenting fail number 3 of the day and it's only 10am) Jbird also had to finish his reading book, which didn't take long as he'd choosen a Where's Wally? book from the free reading box at school. There's a bit of me that thinks that there's no real place for a Where's Wally? book in a free reading box but on this occasion I'm letting it go as it took marginally less time for him to find the irritating speccy dude than it would have done for him to read a book.

So, 830am and 3 children homeworked/fed and dressed. Not bad. Mind you, the smallest one is still bombing round trying to shove lego up her nose, for now though the fcat we're ready to leave the house takes the 'aaghh' out of having to rescue another lego man from death by nostril. You think you're safe now, they're ready to go, you're ready to go, the front door is in sight and the hallowed prize is so close you can smell it (the hallowed prize being the moment you get your children to school on time and into their classroom!) but wait! What's this I hear? Ah, yes, the sound of mutiny in the ranks, the low level grumbled whisper of scooters and whether they'll be allowed to take them today. No, I'm being strong, no scooters today, we're walking Jbird's friend in to school too and the thought of 3 boys, 1 pushchair, 2 scooters and the daily fiht about conkers makes me feel slightly clammy and sick. The clock ticks, the stand off continues, we all eye ball each other, who'll break first?! Me. I break first, compromise - Ol can take scooter and I'll bring J's to school later (a proper pain in the arse as he has a very big, very heavy scooter which I'll have to juggle with puschair/Ol later) I feel sorry for J though, he's compromised as Ol's meltdown should he not be allowed to scoot is such a hideous thought that even the 6.5 year old knows when to quit. My beautiful, clever eldest. I need to tell him more often how wonderful he is.

We're out the door. Result. Get to school (no conker arguments, result) drop off one child in reception, with lunchbox, homework and rain coat. One child to Yr2 with homework, lunchbox and coat, plus one friend, also with coat, bookbag and lunchbox. These are littel victories but I'll take them where I can! Almost there, the school gate's in sight and Leni-lou and I will be home free for 4 hours (Ol being on stupid half days for another 3 weeks) Nearly there .... 'I don't know how you do it, I struggle to get 1 child out the house on time, well done you!' says playground Mum ..... now do I tell her? Or not? Nah, let her think I breeze out the house on a cloud of parenting success every morning, noone need know how traumatic mornings can be right?!