1. What Fluffy’s going to wear.
As promised, I took half an hour of baby-nap-time to go through Fluffy’s entire closet and line up all her outfits (minus Sunday dresses) from left to right. I explained the system to her. Wear the left-most one today, the next one tomorrow, and so on through all her clothes. Commence awesomeness. We made it all the way through to the right side. Sure there were times when I had to adjust for weather or special events I’d not anticipated, but on the whole it was fantastic.
The second time through, however, Fluffy began to rebel against the system. She was tired of having no input and started to mount a protest now and then against the next outfit in line. I got real insight into which outfits were a problem. Fluffy loathes jeans. Fluffy abominates jean skirts. The third time through, I’m going to have her do the line up with me. I meant to include her every time, but didn’t because it was easier and faster to do it myself. Cutting her out of the decision making process does not save time in the long run. It just diverts debates from the middle of a peaceful afternoon to the crunchiest part of a morning time crunch. Not wise.
2. What Fluffy and I are going to eat.
I am sick of breakfast Lean Pockets. I also am not about to live without them. Taking the breakfast negotiation out of mornings has been divine. Eating in the car in the morning saves time for both of us. And counting calories is no problem. I start off the day with food that has some protein (albeit processed beyond all recognition) and a reasonable number of calories. I’m not ever going to call a Lean Pocket healthy, but it’s better than Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
I know standardizing breakfast is relieving my stress levels, because on Friday, Saturday and Sunday when we don’t eat breakfast in the car, it’s a wreck. Fluffy still has no idea what she wants for breakfast, or it she does it’s mac and cheese or a quesedilla or pudding or some other ridiculous dish I’m not about to make or feed her in the morning. The whining, her requests, my denials, my suggestions, her refusals, the martyrdom on both sides, Bleeeh! Standardizing F/Sa/Su breakfast is the next important step.
3. Whether I shower before preschool drop off and what to wear.
There was a time when I would rather have died than drop my daughter off somewhere in my post Insanity disgustingness, but that time is not now. I’ve been totally fine putting a hat on it and showering later. Now I’m realizing, however, that what I really want to do is get up early enough to work out and shower before the boys wake up.
Dare I admit that I also decided to create a daily uniform for myself? Those who know me may swear I wear the same pair of jeans all winter long, but you’re wrong! I have two pairs of identical jeans that I wear on alternating weeks, suckahs! I also culled the most likely candidates for daily tops from my wardrobe and lined them up at the beginning of my closet. This is getting into territory that I’m saving for a future post on “Not wasting our looks while we still have any: a joint initiative among several of my friends”. Stay tuned.
4. Whether I dress the boys before or after preschool
This one has been tricky. I have stuck with the decision to dress them after for the most part. However, now that their morning nap is shortening (soon disappearing?) it’s starting to make sense to dress them up before preschool so I can run an errand or two since they’re already in the car. Conclusion: Needs further study.
On the whole, this experiment has been wildly successful. I’m generally much less stressed and we arrive at preschool pretty consistently 3 minutes late. Consistency is a victory, but I’ve realized that I need to get up earlier. What that really means is that I need to go to bed earlier. Heidi Klum says she goes to bed at 9:30. Meanwhile, I stay up past 9:30 to watch her on Project Runway. She’s literally trying to make every other woman stay up late so that she can be the only one of us popping out of bed at 5:40, fresh as a daisy and all productive while the rest of us have to eat Hot Pockets in the car to save time. Well played, Klum. Well played.