Rememberable mistakes

Remember that time, when you were a kid, when you're parents forgot to pick you up from practice. Or maybe, you had a class project they were supposed to help you with, but they forgot at the last minute and you ended up with some pasta glued to a poster board.

Steve remembers when his parents signed him up for soccer, only they didn't get him shin guards or cleats. He ended up shoving sticks in his socks.

Well, bad parenting moments have darkened our doorsteps this week. For sure.

While I forgot to give Penny her allergy medicine and forgotten to pack her snack, the worst lapse definitely was handed to Carol. We missed her soccer photos.

Yep. Sent Steve to the wrong field. By the time he got to the right field, you guessed it, pictures were over. So now, she'll have a bunch of solo soccer pictures, and a group picture without her. Awesome. Proof of our folly.

The week has pretty much gone like that. We decided to buy a white board so we can have a communal list of things that need to get accomplished. Hopefully this helps. Otherwise, we will continue to be the Keystone Cops of Metcalf families, tripping over our untied shoelaces while we race to whatever activity we happen to be late for.

The limit

I have been trying for years to extend myself beyond my capabilities and, I'm happy to report, I've succeeded at last.

Finally, I have come to the point where I can no longer add another activity to the roster. I can learn no new information. I cannot lose that last six pounds that keeps me overweight, BMI-inly speaking.

I am spent. Sure, the kids are out playing (aka, screaming) with the neighbors right now as I type away on this blog and they are in school for most of the day. Gone are the days of 15-minute stretches of toddler activity like block building and whatever other boring games parents play with their kids. But, for whatever reason, the working and running around required of school-aged children has presented a whole new set of challenges. And just when I had gotten the swing of things.

And here is why:

1) Night shift. I am always exhausted. Always. I don't remember the last time I felt great. I view Red Bull as a new food group. And I no longer sleep. I merely nap.

Today, I needed to pick Penny up from school at 1 p.m. I woke up at 1:00 p.m., on the nose. I was out the door and in line to get her at 1:05, and she didn't even know I was late. Or panicky. She did notice I still had a tag on my new shirt.

2) The minivan culture. I am constantly driving to pick somebody up or drop them off. I really am beginning to understand the sweatpants revolution. Why would you want to put on real pants when you never leave your car?

3) The scheduling. My calendar makes my head hurt. We have a color-coded, online calendar that send alerts about daily activities. And yet, I still was 10 minutes late from picking up Penny from her assessment this week. (What is it with forgetting Penny? Oh, and she's back to Penny, btw.)

4) Exhaustion. This deserves it's own category. Kids need to be out the door in the morning by 7:30. They have homework and activities and Barbie playtime, which means bedtime is rarely earlier than 8. I like to nap (see above) until 9. Then there are dishes to put away, lunches to pack, clothes to lay out, coffee to drink, schedules to check, etc., etc. Just so we can get up and start it all again tomorrow.

I'll end here, mostly because I'm too tired to go on. Today, as I was driving the girls home, Katy Perry's "Firework" came on the radio. It's the girls' favorite song, so sat in the driveway and sang it at the top of our lungs. Or, I tried to sing it. I was getting so weepy and emotional that my voices was cracking at the "Boom, Boom, Boom," part. That is what exhaustion does to a person. It makes Katy Perry deep.

This is my life. Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon. (sniff, sniff)