Mornings

Mornings.
Oh, how I hate you.
Not just because I have trouble leaving my bed.  I always have had to deal with that.  I could lay in bed all day and be content.  I love my bed. Love love love it.

It's the child that we affectionately refer to as "the beast" that makes me dread 6am.

We never know how she'll wake up.

Will she be happy?
Start off the day by barking at us for something we have no control over?
Will she lose all of her privileges for the day by 6:10am?
Will there be tears?
Meltdowns?
Screaming matches?
Spankings?
Will we leave on time because she's cooperative or will she have to go to school with bedhead because it took her 30 minutes to get dressed and stomp downstairs?
Will her pants be too tight/big/long/small/loose today?
Will she have the patience to button, or will her clothes be chucked around the room in frustration?
 Will she remember to ask calmly for help before she explodes?
Will we be able to keep Charlotte out of her way as she's crying and stomping around the house?

Some days we find something that works.  But it's never permanent.
For a while it helped for us to get you dressed.
For a while it helped to cuddle with you as you woke up.
For a while it helped to set a timer.
For a while it helped to read to you in the mornings.
For a while it helped to have everything laid out for you.
For a while it helped to have a check-list for you to mark off.
For a while it helped to race you.
For a while it helped to spank you.
For a while it helped to take away privileges.
For a while it helped to earn privileges.

Today we were all late as you learned how to scream into a pillow.  Once you finally tried it, you didn't stop for 5 minutes straight.  So for now, I think it will work.  And I need to learn to accept that its only going to work for a while and try to have another solution ready to give us peace in the mornings when the pillow screaming stops helping.

But really, I hope we can keep it together in the mornings until you learn to get dressed and eat breakfast in the morning without a meltdown.  It's really not that hard.
And I so wish it wasn't so frustrating for you.
St. Jerome, pray for us.