Tuesday morning, 7:30 a.m.

Tuesdays aren't my favorite day of the week.

Kates has to report to school early on Tuesday mornings for team meetings. Which means I have to fly solo with Phoebe. Which can be a tough task in the morning, even when Kates is around to help.

At 7:30 a.m., with no sign of Phoebe waking up, I went in to her room to gently draw her out of bed. Oh by the way, I turned Mickey Mouse Clubhouse -- one of her favorite shows -- on for her to watch when she arrived in the living room.

Phoebe got up, gathered up her blanket and waddled to the living room. And began crying, Mommyyyyyyy!

"Phoebe, Mommy's not here. She had to go to school," I told her.

The crying turned to sobbing.

Then, upon seeing Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on the TV, she ran toward it, shouting, No, I don't wanna watch Mickey Mouse! She proceeded to turn off the TV, and collapsed on the couch, clutching her blanket, and continued to cry for Mommy.

After explaining that Mommy had to go to school and I would be taking her to daycare -- just like I do every morning -- Phoebe calmed down and I gave her the milk she requested.

Things went from bad to worse.

She refused to get dressed. Nooo! I don't wanna wear that underwear! she cried.

She was frustrated her hair was in her eyes, so I offered her favorite pink head band. Nooo! I want the white one! she cried.

Nothing was going the way she wanted.

She put her socks on backwards. My socks are messed up! she cried.

She had hardly stopped crying from the moment she awoke.

I tried putting her coat on. Nooo! I want my sweatshirt on first! she cried.

Even the way I was dressing upset her.

I put my coat on, but left it unbuttoned. Button it all the way, Daddy! Button the top button! she cried.

Now things were just getting hilarious.

I started putting her shoes on. I had her right shoe on her right foot. Nooo! That goes on this foot! She ripped her right shoe off her right foot and proceeded to force it on her left foot.

Finally, with her coat on and zipped, and both shoes on the right feet, and her beloved blanket in her arms, Phoebe ceased crying, stood up, took my hand and we walked to the car. Just like we do every morning.

Our ride to the daycare is our bonding time, and I try to make sure I soak it in every day.

But Tuesday mornings are rough.

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