Tricks of the trade.

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With my new start time just around the corner, I’ve moved up Olive’s daily start time. This is not fun for anyone. Observe:

    5:45 – Haul my ass out of bed. This is getting progressively more challenging as my pregnancy moves forward. Now I need to get cleaned up and dressed. Ugh.
    6:13 – Wake up the Kraken. It’s a 50/50 chance she’ll be a grump when I wake her. Then, she wants to go directly downstairs, do not pass go, do not get dressed.
    6:30ish – Convince her that she needs to go to the potty, get dressed, wash her face, brush her teeth, maybe brush her hair, and put the dirty clothes away. We used to be able to do this upstairs, but somehow she’s decided she needs to eat first. And at most, we get clothes changed and hair brushed. Anything else is a small victory. (And no, potty training is not yet complete.)
    6:50 – Get in the car and go. GO GO GO. Need to beat the neighborhood traffic by 7AM.
    7:10 – walk into daycare, sit down to eat, try to detach her from me. This is a recent development, as she used to not have any problems with me leaving.
    7:29 – If I’m lucky, I’m swiping my badge at the security gate to the building. If not, I’m at least about to enter the garage.

This morning, I did manage to get her to change her clothes with a little fussing. Listening to Dominic the Christmas Donkey got her to brush her teeth and ask me to put her hair in chongos (pig tails). Trying to figure out what song will get her to got potty and get dressed. The Chicken Dance?

I need to get to fixing her Self Care area. My slothfulness can be overwhelming.

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