The air is changing. There is a crispness in the predawn hours tha … Who am I kidding? I don’t know what predawn looks like. But there is a chill lately that wasn’t felt a few weeks ago. It can only mean one thing … School is coming. With that comes earlier wake-up calls, earlier showers, and earlier breakfasts.
We have a teenager. We have a teenager. Along with the sometime prickly exterior brought on by changing hormones, our son subscribes to the surfer’s creed: Chill dude. This makes implementing anything preceded by the word ‘earlier’ a challenge. Our lot isn’t so rough; Bou doesn’t sleep past 7:30. Many parents should be so lucky and this only poses a problem because to get to school on time he must must must wake up at 6:30.
Our solution: Clocky. While the name suggests the cheesiest of 80s horror flicks, I assure you the reality is even worse.
Clearly Clocky was a lapse in parental judgment likely brought on by having to wake up earlier than necessary. After other similar failed attempts at finding a solution that didn’t wake the neighbourhood we fell back on the tried and true—wheedling. We wheedle him to wake up and get showered and dressed and into the car.
All this wheedling leaves him little time to enjoy an unhurried meal at home and 4/5 breakfasts are served to go. Breakfast prep is frenzied when the chef—father—has to maneuver around a shuffling teen (and mom). We’re both happy when Bou heads to the waiting car with something to drink and enough food to fuel his brain before he faces off against geometry and geography.
As an easygoing kind of surfer dude, and a foodie in training, he’s not thrilled about breakfast in the car and some days refuses to rush-eat. In theory I agree, but since the wheedle-rush-wheedle-scurry routine is largely his doing, I lay down the law: Kids must eat. Or at least drink.
On school days our go-to breakfasts are peanut butter on baguette with a smoothie or eggs with a drinking yogurt. Both are quick to make, mess free for on-the-go eating, and we get protein and liquid into him at the same time. We’re wily like that. YOP is a staple in our house and has been since BK (Before Kids) because I too have an issue with the word earlier. This doesn’t solve our wheedling dilemma, but it makes mornings slightly less crazy when Bou can at least grab his own drink from the fridge.
Disclosure – I am participating in the Help YOP Help You Blogger Campaign by Mom Central Canada. I received compensation as a thank you for participating and for sharing my honest opinion. The opinions on this blog are my own.