frat benders, fossilized hair and the morning routine
Monday, November 23 
A recent weekend morning, around 9 a.m., Angus realizes Oldest Son is still in bed. I love Angus.
7:15 a.m. “Boys, time to start waking up,” I call.
7:19 a.m. I’m making coffee for me, toast for them and yell, “It’s 7:19.”
7: 23 a.m. I wander down the hall with my coffee and look in their bedrooms. They’re moving, but no one is actually out of bed. The bus arrives in front of our house at exactly 7:33 every weekday morning. Middle Son lifts his head like he’s sleeping off a frat-house bender from the night before. Dude.
“Wow, have you guys seen the snow outside?” I say. “Seems like it would be a bummer day to walk to school, but that’s just me. Bus’ll be here in six minutes if you want a ride.”
Oldest Son lifts his head and reaches for his phone, “It’s 7:23, we have 10 full minutes,” he says, flopping back on his bed.
Somehow this year, the boys have begun playing this game called, How Long Can I Possibly Sleep Without Missing the Bus?
Their current record is eight minutes. Apparently that’s all it takes to pull on jeans and a shirt, slap some water on hair, pull coats on, slip feet into shoes and grab the pieces of toast I’ve readied for them as they grab their backpacks and run out the door. And it doesn’t matter how early or late they go to bed the night before, each morning is the same.
But I’ve changed my approach in handling this. After several weeks of ranting, cajoling, generally freaking out and Oldest Son saying, “Mom, SETTLE THE HECK DOWN,” I’ve taken a cue from Shawn.
“Just make them walk if they miss the bus,” Shawn advised. Logical consequences. I’m all about that. Two of the boys have a one-mile walk to school, the other two miles. And oh, I am cool as a reptile now, but Evil Mom is secretly rubbing her hands together, waiting for the day that these boys push it a little too far and THEN understand deep in their hearts that I am wise, and they should listen to me…
I have to admit, I admire their lack of fuss over appearance. It doesn’t even occur to them to worry about spiffying their look. This hairdo below? A major undertaking every morning — at least an hour each day assuming I didn’t also have to ice forehead or neck burns from the curling iron.
Symmetry like this, wings on each side of the head, didn’t happen without some effort. Especially when you consider I have broom-straight hair and had to get the most caustic, finger-in-the-light-socket perms available. I would use the branding iron to make ringlets on each side of my face, then the agility portion of looking this fabulous would begin: I would take my vent brush in one hand and stretch the ringlet into a wing towards the back of my head, then with the other hand, quickly grab my Aquanet hairspray, aim and fossilize. (And okay, this photo isn’t really my best example of this. For some sweet hair-helmet action take a look at the photo in this post.)
Sometimes I worry about that Aquanet, wonder if it's now chemical soup slurping around inside my fat cells. One day I’ll get a wiff of the stuff and it’ll be the tipping point and I’ll die an awful, cancerous death. A martyr for feathered hair. Is it fair that these boys just blissfully sleep with no such pressures?
God bless Farrah Fawcett, but I can’t help but think regretfully of all those collective hours we women of the 80s spent trying to coax our hair to look like hers when we could have been sleeping. Studies show that people who get more zzzs live longer. No doubt we’ve increased our life span since giving up the wings.
My ‘do —no longer a toxic testimony to awkwardness — now takes two minutes with a blow dryer. It’s the coffee that will not be rushed. And apparently, my boys.
Reader Comments (6)
I used to have that hair, too, but mine was a bit more mullet-like. I will not post photos. I tweeted about your blog today http://twitter.com/YourWildChild/statuses/5979555116
Two words, Alarm Clock !!! Make them responsible for their own toast and waking themselves up. They are young and walking is good for them. I am with Shawn, that will cure them and fast. It will only take once and they will not miss the bus again for a while. Don will only wait 3 minutes but he is being generous and his kids have further to walk. p.s love the hair and I also wore the same look for awhile oh fond memories
Can I tell you how much admire your talent for post titles? This may be one of my favorites.
I'm waiting for the day when mine don't get up at 6, bright as pennies. Waiting.
Melynda: There used to be a Web site dedicated to mullets and all their variations, but I can't find it anymore! Thanks so much for the Twitter. I so appreciate the promotion.
SDA: I will report to you the first time the bus pulls away from the curb without the boys on board :) Alarms clocks are a good idea. Sometimes we miss the obvious around here.
Mara: When I first started my job at the magazine I work for I had what can only be called "title anxiety." (Writers always hand in stories w/o titles, then I have to come up with something snappy.) So maybe I've actually made some progress! Thanks for that.
Just being a Smart A, I do feel for them really. I hated waiting for the bus ask Shawn. And I remember my routine taking longer than my brothers. Hair, makeup and contacts and dont forget that perfect outfit with matching socks and jewelry.
I still hit snooze and barely roll out of bed in time to make it to work. Of course, I work in my living room on my computer so no one cares when I'm half dressed with my hair sticking up cursing myself for not setting the coffee maker to auto brew.
Natural consequences? Survival of the fittest? I hope they don't choose this arctic front in which to stay in bed too long. THAT would truly suck.
Nice wings, dude.