Yesterday, September 25th, I remember thinking I had something to do on September 26th, but could not remember what. I eventually accepted that nothing extra was happening and I fell asleep.

I woke up at 7:30am this morning, Wednesday, September 26th, and all three children were still asleep because of course they were. We actually needed to be up by 7am to get Grace to pre-school at 8:15am, so naturally my children slept in. They only get up crazy early on Saturday mornings. Love them.

Anyway, you need some background info: on Wednesdays only Grace goes to pre-school because we love her more than Henry. Kidding. She goes 3x a week and Henry goes 2x a week because of their ages and our finances.

I tried to wake up Grace but she was grumpy and sleepy and didn’t want to go to school. Then we entered some kind of time warp and all of a sudden it’s 8:07am. Two things happened at 8:07am this morning.

1. I remembered it was picture day. In my mind I could suddenly see the tiny slip of paper saying Wednesday, September 26th, picture day. I vaguely remembered an email suggesting something similar.

2. I shoved Grace out of the bed and said TIME TO GET UP.

Good start, good start.

Grace wasn’t super thrilled about her rude awakening. Henry woke up super congested and grumpy. I told Grace I was going to have to brush her hair because it was picture day. She started sobbing (before I even started) and then continued to sob as I brushed, so I couldn’t face braiding her hair. We both agreed on a head band instead. She looked crazy. Super puffy hair, super puffy face from crying, and a crazed look in her eyes. Good times, good times.

I threw some clothes on Henry that were clean and didn’t look terrible just in case he was supposed to have his picture taken too, even though he doesn’t usually come to school on Wednesdays. Sophia had a tank top on her that was about 3 sizes too big, her arm and neck were in through the neck hole and the other arm was through an arm hole, and I put a clean diaper on her. Win.

I splash some coffee into a mug, shove children’s feet into shoes, and throw everyone into the van as quickly as I can. We fly into school only 10 minutes late. I go in with Grace to her classroom and mouth “sorry” to the teacher, then Henry’s teacher sees me and asks me if Henry is coming for picture day? “Well, he can, I mean, he’s in the car right now, no, not alone, with Sophia, haha, don’t arrest me, haha, never-mind, I’ll go get him”

I bring Henry in and he’s confused but happy.

I assume pictures were taken. I’m hopeful that enough time passed for Grace’s face to recover from the trauma of getting her hair brushed. Last year at picture day Henry sobbed and had to be held by a teacher so he wouldn’t run away. I didn’t hear anything about him ruining picture day for everyone, so I’m thinking today’s a win.