Unhappy Camper

There is nothing I enjoy about this.
Warren is off to Connecticut for a conference this week - some sort of "clergy crap" as I lovingly refer to it. So, that leaves me here - "single momming it" - with Jonathan.
Call me spoiled, but usually I get to sleep in and Warren gets up at 5:15 with Jonathan. I arrive later, usually, just as the frenzy of getting out the door is ending. This works, according to Warren, because sometimes a third person just adds fuel to the fire. Okay! See you at 6:15! There is nothing, to me, even halfway attractive about anything before 6 a.m. I'm just sayin'.
So, I've set my alarm for 5:15 every day this week. So far, it's working. I get up and get dressed. I wake up Jonathan and go downstairs and start coffee. Then I holler upstairs to make sure Jonathan is out of bed. Then I go back to the kitchen to figure out what to make him for his lunch. Then I holler up the stairs one more time to make sure he's vertical. Then I remind him that the dog needs to be taken care of.
So, downstairs he comes - usually without shoes on, and no dog. "Go put shoes on and take care of the dog." He looks at me like nobody has ever told him this before. Then he turns, and follows my "orders." If I put a banana on his plate with his breakfast, he asks for a knife...not to cut up the banana, but to cut off "the ends" because for some stupid reason, he does not like the little pointed ends of the banana. Whatever. Breakfast for me!
After he eats, I tell him (every day) to go upstairs and brush his teeth and put his bands on his braces. By this time, he has 20 minutes left - plenty of time to get ready and organized and make it a relaxed exit. But 15 minutes later, I'm yelling up the stairs, "Did you brush your teeth?" "I'm getting there!" he yells back. "WTF?" I think to myself. Then, I'm "nicely" yelling at him to hurry it up because it's almost time to leave.
He grabs his things and throws them into his backpack. "Do you have your lunch?" I always ask. "Oh, crap!" he says, as he runs to the kitchen to grab it. "Do you have bands in?" I always ask. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. So I explain that he's just wasting his own time by not wearing them. But he always has them in his back pocket! You know the rest of that story...
Out the door...on time, if I drive him to the bus stop. I'm a stickler for being on time, so we always have a few minutes to wait and chat. We figure out his schedule for the day. He seems to know a lot more about handling time than I do. What is it with 15-year-olds, anyway? Time for the bus, so I kick him out of the car and come home. Home to quiet and noise and signs of life that is now sitting on a bus headed to Worcester Tech. And I miss him. And I miss him all day, and can't wait to see him at the end of his day...I want to hear all about it and listen to his stories. He tells such great stories, and he's so excited and enthusiastic about them all! Then, I like to watch him do his homework while he has a snack. He's always so ravenous, and eats with such aplomb it's amazing. And then he eats dinner like he hasn't seen food in a week.
So, yes, I miss Warren. I hate being a single parent. But I love my boy. So, if I have to be a single parent for a week I'll just suck it up and enjoy the stories. Maybe I'll have a few of my own by the time Warren gets back on Friday. Maybe I'll even get up early to tell them to him.