Waking up is hard to do

Works-for-Me Wednesday

Around this time a few years ago, I decided to start getting up earlier. As I recall, that worked for awhile. And then I stopped setting the alarm clock again, and I kept sleeping until just before the kids woke up. Or until the kids woke me up. Whichever.

I’ve decided, though, that it was a good idea. Just like I said two years ago, getting up earlier would give me time to get ready, have breakfast and put my mind in a good place before the small folk come downstairs. So I’ve re-enacted my plan, with a twist.
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Dinnertime, and the living is contentious

It’s almost time for dinner. Little Petey is strapped into his booster seat, crying. Not an “I’m hurt” or “I need help” cry. Just an “I’m irritated and have had enough and don’t know what to do with all these feelings” sort of cry.

“Pete won’t stop crying!” Poppy calls out. As if it weren’t obvious from my macaroni-stirring vantage point. “Petey, stop crying right now!”

“No,” he wails, multi-syllabically. Unconsoling meets inconsolable.

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