This morning, I walked in at 6:45am to Catherine (age: 5) chewing gum with her mouth open and playing video games. I wanted to turn around and walk out. Somehow, I resisted.
Catherine has a certain “je ne sais quoi” about her. We have early morning tiffs over how its impossible to brush your teeth without the use of water, the need to turn off SpongeBob, how a cheese stick is not breakfast, and, of course, the tedious process of getting dressed. She picks out her own clothes and the combinations are priceless.
Some days involve tears. Some hers, some mine.
When I first got the job of taking her to school every morning I was told that she may give me the cold shoulder for a while. I had no idea they meant 3 months of it. The only advice I was given by the previous nanny was that Catherine liked PB&J for breakfast. Um, Ok. Thanks.
For the first few weeks I was lucky if Catherine even spoke to me. I appreciated the silence. I'm not a morning person. I quickly learned how to handle the morning tasks militantly. See the thing about Catherine is that she is a child of divorce. This means several things. One being that they rarely tell her no, because no one wants to be the bad guy, and second being that her parents live in 2 different homes, 5 blocks from each other. We have had several crying runs to the opposite house before school because it's Spirit Day and there's nothing red at her dad's or its gymnastics day and she needs uniform: black leggings (Which is a total lie. There is no "gymnastics uniform". Well, maybe in her head there is.).
Every morning, I come home with a story. Sometimes I think she might be the devil and sometimes she's absolutely hilarious. I'll share them here. Welcome to Mornings with Catherine.
Catherine has a certain “je ne sais quoi” about her. We have early morning tiffs over how its impossible to brush your teeth without the use of water, the need to turn off SpongeBob, how a cheese stick is not breakfast, and, of course, the tedious process of getting dressed. She picks out her own clothes and the combinations are priceless.
Some days involve tears. Some hers, some mine.
When I first got the job of taking her to school every morning I was told that she may give me the cold shoulder for a while. I had no idea they meant 3 months of it. The only advice I was given by the previous nanny was that Catherine liked PB&J for breakfast. Um, Ok. Thanks.
For the first few weeks I was lucky if Catherine even spoke to me. I appreciated the silence. I'm not a morning person. I quickly learned how to handle the morning tasks militantly. See the thing about Catherine is that she is a child of divorce. This means several things. One being that they rarely tell her no, because no one wants to be the bad guy, and second being that her parents live in 2 different homes, 5 blocks from each other. We have had several crying runs to the opposite house before school because it's Spirit Day and there's nothing red at her dad's or its gymnastics day and she needs uniform: black leggings (Which is a total lie. There is no "gymnastics uniform". Well, maybe in her head there is.).
Every morning, I come home with a story. Sometimes I think she might be the devil and sometimes she's absolutely hilarious. I'll share them here. Welcome to Mornings with Catherine.
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