TJ has been having a rough time getting out of the house in the morning. He doesn't want to get dressed, doesn't want to eat breakfast, doesn't want to hustle his bustle. (My new saying.)
It's been a rough few weeks.
Today we were struggling to get him out the door on time, he wasn't having it. The tension is palpable as the time to leave gets closer. The collective stress level is escalating and he is just refusing to get dressed.
Finally John dresses him and I put his breakfast in a to go container and take him to school. He is not happy the whole way there.
When I get home, I go into his room for something and see that he has made his bed. Awwww.
Now I just want to hug the stubborn little mofo.