Just once I’d like for things to go as planned…

I’m late! I’m late for a very important date!

I feel like this constantly and no matter how good I am at time management (truly my forte’), I just don’t feel like I can catch-up. January and February have been catastrophe months causing a feeling of two steps forward, three steps back.

For example:

Today is my day off and I had plans to run some errands, work on the garage, and read a book. Instead, I’ll be going in to work, going to the dry cleaners (not on my original errand list), and dropping by my mom’s house and the school. Of all of those things/places, my mom’s house is the only place I gladly drop by.

I have to go into work because I haven’t finished next week’s schedule. I was training my assistant manager how to do it and we hit a snag and got behind. She’s off today; I’m going in to finish it. There’s a more important lesson there than just doing the freakin’ schedule.

I’m going to the dry cleaners because our beloved, asshole dog, Lulu, pee’d all over the bed late last night. I heard about it this morning because I fell asleep on the couch and awoke to the awful story. Poor S had gone to bed, got cozy, and was just about to fall into a deep sleep when she reached over to feel if I was there with her. She ran her arm across the down comforter and it felt wet. She got up to check it out and found that Lulu had pee’d buckets all over my favorite (red and black) wool blanket (dry clean only) which soaked through the down comforter (dry clean only) and then soaked into the down-feather bed (dry clean only… I think… it may not be salvageable) and into the mattress pad and mattress. She was (quietly) cleaning this up at 1:00 AM and doing her level best to not throttle the dog. When I asked her why she didn’t wake me up, she told me that, while she thought I would probably deal best with the dog (as in throttle), she didn’t want to incur my wrath of being awakened in the middle of the night. Okay… okay… so, I’ve been a little crabby when she’s awakened me in the middle of the night in the past but must it become a PTSD moment for her? Still… I felt bad.

My mom is sick with this cold/flu that’s been going around. I’ll go to Walgreen’s and pick up some supplies and drop them off for her. I don’t mind doing this in the least ’cause I know how it feels to be sick and have to schlep out of bed, get dressed, and go to the store. I’m hoping she gets over this quickly. Luckily, she has the luxury of staying home but, still, this cold/flu is awful.

Middle child is still spending his recess, every day, in study hall because he isn’t turning in his homework/projects and isn’t finishing classroom work. He’s actually doing his homework but then, he’s so disorganized that he loses it, forgets it, or doesn’t remember his agenda book. Frustrating! He’s not getting his classroom work done because he’s so busy chattering and not paying attention. *sigh* So, back I go to the school to, once again, sit with him to ensure he does his work and to check to see if his desk is clean. I bet it isn’t ’cause I just went in their room and, well, it’s a mess despite our best efforts, threats, lectures, and restrictions.

Youngest is really doing a lot of talking lately. The other night I was teasing him and he told me to “Sholl UP, DeMommy!” Sholl up? Sholl up? Did you just tell me to “sholl up”? His answer was clear as a bell: “Yes!” Guess I’ll stop by his classroom, too. He thinks he’s being funny when he says stuff like this and it’s really hard to keep from laughing when we tell him it’s not okay to tell someone to “sholl up” or, worse, some of the other things that have recently been coming out of his mouth.

We are really good about not swearing at or around the boys (although there are times when it is sooooo tempting) and I’ve heard the older boys, of course, under their breath, using some unsavory terms. I’ve actually had to go so far as to put a bar of soap in their nasty mouths. (Now THAT was a comical scene: oldest holding the bar of soap between his teeth, trying but not succeeding in keeping the soap from touching his tongue while quarts of spit are flowing out down his shirt. I haven’t heard one “bad” word from him since and, yeesh, what a mess!) I can’t believe I did that (I mean, really; how archaic!) but it seemed to work (for me, too, when I was a kid) ’cause I rarely hear it from them.

However, in their room, in hushed tones, they will still call each other names and youngest picks up on this and innocently says things, usually totally out of context, and then doesn’t quite understand why he’s in trouble. He called oldest an “asshole” the other day (Frankly, I had to agree but didn’t.) and, it was done in such a funny way, that we all started cracking-up. Try reinforcing that it’s a bad behavior after that! Ugh. It’s funny until we get a note home from the teacher…

So, off I go, into the wild, blue, yonder… Well, to the dry cleaners, etc… and then, hopefully, I’ll have a moment of peace this afternoon. Eh. I just remembered that today is half-day at school. Oh, well…

There’s always my sanctuary:

The Bathroom.