Every school year starts out the same; our family resolves that with the new schedule change, we will be five kinds of on top of it. We’ll wake up early enough to get the beds made, perhaps enjoy a proper fry-up for breakfast once in awhile, brush our collective teeth, and make our way to the bus stop and work at a leisurely pace, well rested and aptly prepared.

Sometime around December that inevitably falls apart, and we start waking up a half an hour before school, eating nothing but Rice Krispies every morning and brushing teeth maybe sometimes. We excuse our inability to get our daughter to the bus stop by claiming that it’s too cold, despite the fact that a Texas December rarely dips below 40-something, and drive her to school instead.

By May, everyone is so utterly burned out and checked out that all of that goes out the window. With only six weeks of school left, we all typically wake up just before the bell rings, and have five minutes to get ready. You know the drill.

The sun is shining. Wait! Something’s wrong. The sun shouldn’t be shining yet!

Oh crap. We are sooo effing late. Better call the boss.

Hurry up and get dressed. Just forget about shoes.

Get your face on for work.

Brushing your child’s hair becomes about efficiency, not comfort.

You get some food into everyone’s mouth hole

You need coffee, but mugs will only slow you down.

Everyone get in the car, NOW.

Oh crap, the first bell is ringing and you aren’t even near the school entrance.

You have to make a tough decision to get your kid out of the car and out of the hands of truant officers, sorry kid.

You scream at your child to run like their ass is on fire. They do, but you aren’t sure they’ll make it.

And then they do something resourceful, making you SO proud.

You’re drained, but you totally nailed it, so you high five your partner.

(Image: TongRo/Shutterstock)