Charles didn’t have a good morning. I tried to get him up a couple of times so that it wouldn’t be a terrible rush to get him off to daycare, but he was unmovable. When he did finally get up, I was in my office to which Charles came pathetically crying because I hadn’t helped him with his night clothes (“you not HELP me!”). Charles needs help with these particular night clothes because the cuffs on the arms and legs are very tight and require more strength than Charles has to get on or off.
After we solved the night clothes problem, Charles wanted to know where Mom and Corwin were. I explained that Corwin had gone off to school and Mom off to work, at which point Charles collapsed in to tears. A normal child might have done this because he missed his mother. Charles, however, was distressed because he had missed riding on the bus. Telling him that Mom would pick him up in the afternoon for a bus ride did nothing to mollify him.
After some further travails (including an Alice who, as far as I can tell, uses my wearing of my coat as a stimulus for pooping in her diaper) I managed to get a somewhat sullen Charles in to daycare. As long as I don’t have to drag him, wailing, in to the room I count it a success.