That’s at least the number of times I have said (yelled, called, screamed, hollered) “wake up” this school year. Not even counting weekends.
It’s the minimum number of times I have answered the question “huh?” with “get down here, eat breakfast – don’t forget your milk, and get out of here for school.”
It is the approximate combined total number of times that I have asked for lunchboxes that were under the bed, on the couch, by the front door, in the car – everywhere but in the kitchen and reminded folks to leave their lunchbox in the kitchen when they get home.
It is the least possible summation of times that I have said “get your stuff ready for tomorrow” and “didn’t you get your stuff ready last night?”
It is pretty close to the number of times I have signed “I gotta turn this in today or I won’t get to…” forms at 7 am, pulled out wrinkled dollars from the bottom of my purse for “I forgot to tell you I don’t have any lunch money” lunches, and scribbled checks for “oh, yeah this is due today” permission slips and registrations.
It is the number of times someone has said “have you seen my…” or “I can’t find my…” at 6, 7, and 8 am.
It is way below the number of times I have said “put up your phones” and “go to bed” repeatedly within a two-hour time span.
It is June. Four kids, 180 days of school (well, almost, but who’s counting). And if you’ve done the math and still don’t get to this number – hit “x 2” on our calculator because it’s not sufficient to say things once to each child. I feel like a broken record. Except with a broken record, it’s the exact same thing every time. With a repetitive, worn-out mom, there is variability in volume, the gritting of teeth, the caffeination level and the litany of “how many times do I have to say…?”
Apparently that number is somewhere around 1440.
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