I’d like to start this post with a giant shout out to all single moms and dads out there. Henri is out of town for business for a few days and I’m reminded how much I respect and admire the parents who have to do it all on a regular basis.
With Henri out of town, my whole schedule is off. Going to the gym at 4am is, of course, not an option because there is obviously no child care at that hour, so last night I decided to set my alarm for 5:30 a.m., giving me an hour to blog or something before getting Rylee up and ready for school. I’m so on top of things. I am uber mom.
Only…I don’t get up at 5:30 a.m. I get up at 7:08 a.m. and we have to be in the car by 7:15 to get her to school before the morning bell.
“Run, Rylee, Run! Move, little Henry! Move! Move! Move!” I throw clothing and granola bars at the children and scramble to find all the papers for Rylee’s daily folder. No one ever told me how much paperwork was involved with sending your kids to school. Worksheets, permission slips, book fairs, PTA volunteer forms, emergency contact sheets, school photo packages, oh my God!
And now I’m giving a big shout out to parents whose children outnumber them. I’m reminded how much I respect and admire the person who invented birth control. I have two kids and I’m losing my mind half the time. How on earth do you magic moms with 3 and 4 kids do it? And my kids are in different schools, with different rules to follow, and different orientation packets to read, and now birthday party season has officially started. Yikes!
We made it to Rylee’s school at 7:24 am (the morning bell rings at 7:30 am,) further evidence that I really am an uber mom. I drop off Henry and wonder why I have a strong impulse to drive to Cracker Barrel. Oh. Because I haven’t eaten.
At work I do a quick demo of a vacant unit. OK, that’s not true. I did the demo on Wednesday. (Love destroying things!) Today I just paid Brian, gathered up paperwork to do at home and fled. Had to get more paperwork done for Rylee’s school – a four page questionnaire plus samples of her work. And speaking of work, her homework was on the kitchen table.
Then I look at the time. I’m supposed to be at the school cafeteria right now. “Please don’t give me a ticket, please don’t give me a ticket, please don’t give me a ticket,” I pray zooming past the cop doing 50 mph in a 30 mph zone. Texas cops don’t play. But cardboard cut outs of cops designed to scare the shit out of speeding drivers are more forgiving. After recovering from my heart attack I race to Rylee’s cafeteria, figure out who Hannah is so I can give her a note asking her mom to resend me directions to her house since we lost the birthday invitation, tell a few knock-knock jokes with the kids, then scramble to pick up Henry.
Hope you get a good workout in too!
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