It was one of those days. Like an un-coordinated circus seal spinning plates--a comedy of errors. Yesterday started with Paul already at work, L waking up too early, and G waking up too late. The prince rarely sleeps "late", and by 'late' I mean 7:45, which does not provide him with the adequate transitional time to get ready for school. Like every man I know, he does not like to be told what to do. Imagine?! As if rolling over and hearing, "take.off.your.diaper.go.to.the.bathroom.brush.your.teeth.eat.breakfast.put.your.clothes.on." isn't a pleasant way to start the day?? But, life must go on and yesterday, it went on in conflict. You know, one of those mornings where no matter what you suggest, it is met with tears, whines, and a standoff? So, he goes to school with wild hair, and a stretched out shirt (that he had not only slept in, but pulled at like a banshee all morning because he didn't want to wear it.). Obviously my intent was not for him to wear that shirt to school, although due to Standoff #32.1, it was a collared polo shirt, not pajamas. Oh, and also his face was covered in cheese crackers, because, like his father, it takes G about 2 hours to be ready for breakfast and that's all I could get him to eat. And heaven forbid I send him to school without breakfast, because I think they eat snack at all of 9:30.
We gathered his lunch and materials for his class "egg drop", and I was feeling pretty peppy because, despite a questionable wardrobe, we were on time!! He cried the whole (1/2 mile) way there because "but, I want to bring a weapon to school" (i.e., plastic pirate hook) and arrived at school red-faced, disheveled, and unhappy.
My first clue was the sea of hairbows the size of Texas that I spotted in the parking lot. My second clue was rounding the corner to his class and hearing "so glad you are here for picture day". CRAP. Picture day. I totally forgot. Egg drop day? Totally prepared for, which did us no good, since it wasn't egg drop day. Of course, I could have gone home and gotten a change of clothes and a hairbrush (did I mention we are way overdue a cut?) and possibly some 'product' (yes, I use 'product' on their hair).....but that would have taken precious minutes from my golden Mothers Day Out time. And, he probably wouldn't have put them on willingly anyway.
So, I figured G would just have to suffer the shame of being the only 'non-prepster' in the very prestigious Young 3s portrait.....and that we would not be ordering any of the $20 prints. I could only laugh when I picked him up and he was wearing his 'spare' clothes from the bottom of his backpack, that were stained, mismatched, and tragically short. I asked Garrett where he had his picture taken and he said "I stood behind the tree". A little strategic placement, eh?? He also confided that he was making his 'penguin face':). A photographer's dream!