my 2017 #streamteam august

Stella starts Grade 2 in six days. While all the parents across the land celebrate the beginning of the school year, I am UNHAPPY. It’s not because I lament the passing of time. It’s not because our summer was magical and I can’t fathom its sad finale. It’s not because I’m already stressed about helping my Big Emotions Kid navigate the Melrose Place-ish twists and turns of being 7 and only loving or hating people.

It’s because school mornings drain my lifeblood. They challenge my patience and my mental health and my very love for this child of mine. How many times and different ways and tones can I say "Can you please hurry up?" How many alternate ways can I help prod her along? How does a child forget every morning what her MINIMAL motions are?

Every extra second she lolls about in bed, I have to swallow bile. If you suggest to me carrying her 50 pounds of dead weight from her bed to the kitchen table where her breakfast, iPad and favourite stuffie are all primed and ready, I HAVE TRIED THAT BECAUSE I AM A DUMB DUMB WHO WILL TRY ANYTHING TO MAKE MY MORNINGS EVEN 5% LESS TERRIBLE.

Nothing has worked.

When she flops on the couch with one sock on, moaning from the burden of cotton clothing being slipped over her head, I have to karate chop through 15 blocks of wood in my head to calm down. When I glance over as the clock noisily ticks away, and see her casually holding her toast a cm from her lips while watching her iPad, I have to sprint to the bathroom and scream into a hand towel because OH MY GOD HURRY UP.

I have tried everything to make our mornings less of a nightmare.

    • Put her to bed earlier
    • Skipped breakfast
    • Swapped breakfast
    • Threats
    • Kindness
    • Laying out every single thing the night before, down to the cereal bowl sitting alone in the dark on the kitchen table
    • Asked her for some strategies
    • Begged
    • Cried
    • Created Checklists
    • Reiterated expectations every day
    • Pretended I don’t care
    • Confiscated iPad
    • Delivered Meryl Streep-level performances of aloof despair, taking guilt trips to a whole other plain

ALL FOR NAUGHT.

And what’s the big deal, you may ask? Neither one of us are heart surgeons. Nobody will die if she is late for school and I am late for work. OH BUT I WILL. I don’t believe in being late. I take public transportation and still am never late. I don’t have the gene that allows me to be nonchalant about time.

If I’m on time, I am late.

Early is magical. Early is stress-free. Early is kind, successful, respectful and responsible.

Early is the goal always.

And we are never early because in the cruelest twist of human development, my sweet child inherited the nonchalant-about-time gene from her father.

I have SIX days left before 10 LONG months of mornings are laid out in front of me like a battlefield.

I’m not a math genius but I don’t think that’s enough time to develop a teleporter or an App that will make me rich so I can hire a Morning Nanny.

So, until then I will hole up with my best friend who ALWAYS understands me, listens to me and is always right on time, no matter what. (It’s Netflix, but you already knew that.)

She's lucky she is wonderful.

She's lucky she is wonderful.

Here is what I watched in August while in supreme denial of the impeding unflinching September mornings.

Icarus
Russia scares the poop out of me.

 

Band of Robbers
Being an adult is hard so when you have the opportunity for hi-jinks, you take it.

 

Jackie
This was one of my favourite movies from 2016. The haunting score and wonderful performances make this a must-watch for anyone who calls themself a film buff. (Does anyone do that anymore? I don’t know. Just watch this.)

 

White Gold
A dramedy about British salesman being gloriously sleazy in the 80s. You can almost smell their cheap cologne.

 

The Characters: John Early
John Early was my favourite part of Search Party, and this showcase of his comic writing and acting is so pleasurable. The engagement dinner party skit killed me.

 

Spirit: Riding Free
Stella is obsessed with this show and I am so far okay with it even though I CANNOT figure out what era it takes place in. (They are laying railroads but the girls are wearing jeans, what is happening?) As long as she doesn’t ask me for a horse, I will continue to endorse this.

So, if you have any revolutionary ideas for how I can survive ALL THE AM'S, drop 'em below in the comments. xo

As a member of Netflix Canada's #streamteam I will be giving you the straight goods on what I'm watching each month in exchange for a yearly membership. It's a match made in heaven, really.