3:00am: I hear gibberish and such from Punkin's room.
3:30am: "Mom! Mom! MOM!"
3:34am: Punkin is in bed with me.
4:00am: Punkin is watching a Mickey Mouse Clubhouse DVD and I'm half sleeping next to him, still in bed.
4:59am: "MOM. MOM. Uh oh."
5:00am: I restart the movie.
5:40am: Alarm goes off.
6:07am: I get up.
6:40am: I remember, as I'm walking out the door, that Punkin needs his antibiotic. I hand it to him; he throws it across the kitchen, showering the cabinets and my pants in "the pink stuff."
6:41am: "MESS! MESS! A MESS!" Punkin attempts to clean the floor.
6:50am: We are finally leaving. I am already late.
6:55am: We arrive at school and he dumps his bag of Goldfish crackers on the floor of the car. "MESS! MESS!"
6:57am: He throws Ducky across the classroom.
6:57: "WHAAA!!!! I FROW! I FROW! A MESS!"
7:00am: He is laying upside-down on my lap, trying to regroup.
7:20am: The other teacher goes to get the breakfast cart from the cafeteria. I stand up to get Punkin's therapy brush out of my purse. He walks up to the table, picks up my Mountain Dew, and empties it on the floor.
7:21am: "WHAAA!!! A MESS! TIME OUT! A MESS! WHAAA!!! "
7:25am: He is back on my lap, being brushed, and we are again regrouping.
7:30am: My legs are burning.
7:40am: He asks to go to the car.
7:55am: We leave the morning program and walk down the hall to his classroom. I open the door to his classroom; he refuses to enter. He has NEVER refused to go in his room. I nudge him inside and he whines. I'm not sure how things went from there, but I know he didn't sit at the table right away like usual. I'm guessing they had to do some sensory/calming stuff for a while.
10:10am: I find out he's crying about going poop and pushed another child into a locker. He feels warm but has no fever and was crabby with the nurse, whom he loves.
10:15am: We go home. Maybe I'm overreacting, maybe not. But the kid did not feel good. I'm guessing the pineapple yesterday just isn't settling well (although I have yet to see any explosions, if you know what I mean).
10:25am: We arrive home. He is THRILLED. He poops.
10:30am: The guy comes to inspect the apartment. He asks about my neighbors. "Well, I don't know much except that they're loud and have lots of people coming and going. And they wake me up frequently between the hours of 3 and 5am." He says they have no power. I tell him about the note I saw from the electric company. "Ya, they're probably on their way out, then. You should call when you have problems, then we can document it." He checks out my place and promises to fix my two kitchen cabinets, the floor, the screen, AND give me a real screen door on my balcony with a better lock. He is exceptionally nice.
12:00pm: Punkin falls asleep for about 10 minutes on my lap. I try to put him in bed, but he rips the sheets off, runs out of the room, and bangs his head on the floor.
12:15pm: He's done with that business and lays in bed quietly for five minutes. I let him get up. We are watching Duck Tales. Again. And it's the 3rd dvd out of the set. Again. He loves the cave duck's voice, I think.
1:00pm: The nap, short as it was, seems to be doing the trick. At least he's happy. I'm pushing for an early bedtime and a happier Wednesday.