Terry Bradshaw’s coat in this clip is awesome. Seriously awesome.
Oh and I’m seriously considering throwing in the towel regarding morning discipline. Because, and I’m just spitballin’ here but I think utter failure is about where we’re at. Additionally, I have no idea how to fix, or even improve, the situation. Nor have I been formulating possible strategies or even tactics to employ. Right now I’m sorta sweet on the whole “giving up” idea. The Colts did it in week 13 of the ’77 football season to keep the Patriots out of the playoffs. And I’m pretty much for anything that keeps the Patriots out of the playoffs.
Anyhow, Kinz and Bails fight in the bathroom while they get ready for school. Aggravating but not really radical news. There is one sink right in the middle of the bathroom counter. But the mirror runs the length of the counter so despite the relative lack of counter space because of the sink location, there is plenty of mirror space. However with the aforementioned sink placement you always have one person standing directly in the middle forcing the other person off to this side or the other. That of course leaves an entire side of the counter unused.
Solution? Kinz gets up 15 minutes before Bails so she has the bathroom to herself while she brushes her teeth and hair, etc. This has led to her getting down to breakfast faster which has led to her getting ready faster. And faster is better. Nobody gets punched in the face. Kidding. Mostly. It also has given her a good 30 minutes to read. She’s in two different reading groups at school that require her to read. A lot. And despite a few hiccups, she’s done pretty well managing her own time and has met the deadlines. Problem pretty much solved with respect to Kinz.
Sometimes however, Kinz isn’t totally out of the bathroom when Bails gets up. So they’ll pick at each other a bit. But compared to what it used to be, we’re still counting the current bathroom situation as a win.
Our problem begins with Bails getting dressed. Her process, we’ve surmised, is the same as the fiscal cliff negotiations. She not really doing anything and even when she’s faking doing something, she doesn’t really put any kind of effort into it to really sell us on it. The problem is that despite a plethora of clothing choices, mostly because she gets everything the other two girls haven’t destroyed, she has some self imposed limitations. But first let me describe the landscape of this problem. Bails has a drawer full of pants. Black, faded denim and your standard denim colored jeans. At least six pairs. She has at minimum four pairs of denimesque leggings and some dark gray leggings that look like they are courduroy. And then she has several pairs of sweat pants and work out pants. Black, red, gray, navy. But, and I’m not exaggerating, she’ll only wear four specific pairs of pants without a fight. Or at least a very terse and animated conversation. Black jeans, dark gray courduroy leggings, red Iowa State sweat pants and one pair of denim leggings.
She has a variety of t-shirts that she’ll wear under one of the three hoodies that she rotates between. She wears a hoodie everyday. Every single day. Not being flippant. She’s lost two since the year started. They’ve vanished. The playground at school is like the Bermuda Triangle for hoodies. And purple camouflage fleece jackets evidently. Lost that too. That leaves her with two gray Iowa State hoodies and an orange Chicago Bears hoodie. Luckily, she received a black North Face hoodie for early Christmas. Rumor is Santa might be bringing her a couple more. All just conjecture and innuendo at this point. But, point is, she doesn’t really argue about her t-shirts and her hoodies – although she probably wears the same 10-11 t-shirts all the time. The real problem comes when one of the four pairs of pants on her preferred list isn’t clean. God forbid we don’t keep up with the laundry and they are all dirty at the same time. Oh wait that’s all the time. Like all the freaking time.
She’ll sit in her room and do nothing when she discovers that the preferred pants are not clean. You walk in and ask what the hell she’s doing and she’ll whine about none of the pants she likes being clean. Oh, hey, how about that. Maybe a good decision at this point is to wear one of the other 20 pairs of pants in your freaking drawer so you don’t miss the freaking bus and I get a call from school wondering where the hell you are. How about that? Hmmm! Yeah, I think maybe you just wear something else today.
This, of course, just escalates. But I did get her to become comfortable wearing the faded denim jeans with her orange Bears hoodie. But just that particular hoodie. Why? Well if she wears one of gray Iowa State ones with those jeans it looks dumb because they are almost the same color. Of course.
Okay, first, faded denim and gray are not the same color. That’s like saying the Chiefs and the Redskins are wearing the same uniform colors. Second, what? It doesn’t look dumb. Jeans go with hoodies. Period. There are no color restrictions. There aren’t even color preferences. They just go. Done. Move on. Nothing to see here.
But even when you frustratingly get her dressed, she goes back into the bathroom to brush her hair. Usually, and thankfully, teeth are normally done. She brushes her hair and puts in and takes out a pony tail 39 times. Every morning. Why? Because there are bumps in her hair. That’s right, freaking bumps. She wants her hair to be perfectly flat as it is pulled back into the pony tail. So I leveled with her.
“You have two options if that’s your goal kiddo. Either shave you head and then there’s no bumps in your hair because you don’t have any. Or load up your hair with melted animal fat. Or used motor oil. Either one will work. That’ll smooth our your hair and get rid of the bumps.”
She also only will wear one pair of denim leggings because the other three are too big and always have, you guessed it, bumps in them. Bailey is more anti-bump than Nancy Pelosi is pro-botox.
Anyway we have this problem. No idea how to fix it. Dictatorial edict isn’t working. Threat of corporal punishment isn’t working. Right now the only thing that worked was when I told her that if this is the way things are going to happen then she probably doesn’t need to have a friend sleepover tonight. That solved the problem Wednesday morning. But then yesterday morning she couldn’t find the Iowa State t-shirt she wanted to wear with her Iowa State sweats and hoodie. Oh yes, we suggested she look in all the folded but not quite put away yet, laundry in her room. Wasn’t there. Downstairs in the dryer? Wasn’t there. On the drying rack? Wasn’t there. In her dirtly laundry hamper? Wasn’t there.
Which means she lost it, it evaporated or she threw it in a corner somewhere. So here’s what I did. I walked into her room, around her bed to the night stand. It was at this point that I got down on all fours and looked under her bed, then between the bed and the night stand.
Hmmm, there it is. And its dirty.
She could not have cared less though. So the decision is to fight and demand she wear a different t-shirt – which would have led to her insisting on wearing a different pair of pants. Which were also probably dirty. Or just let her where a t-shirt again.
I let her wear the freaking t-shirt. Because I have a breaking point. And if she wants to smell like a foot while she’s at school? Fine. At some point you just don’t care anymore.
By the way after we did that that yesterday morning, I’m shaving and I realize that its Thursday and I need to take Kinz to school early today for orchestra.
“Hey Kinz you have to be at school early today right?”
Then I hear the panicked footsteps of Kinz coming up the stairs when she realizes she was supposed to be at a neighboring school at 7:15 to practice for her orchestra concert. Unfortunatley, the clock says 7:34.
So I finish shaving by using the same method you use when you dethatch your lawn. Just shredded my face. I looked like somebody colored it by making a whole bunch of tiny dots with a red sharpie. Awesome. But I got Kinz to the practice fast enough that she only missed one song. Pretty good. And Kinz, to her credit, calmed down and took it in stride. Weird for her. But a pretty normal morning for me.