It’s been a week of petty failures for me. Cute W was gone all week (back now, thank you-thank you-thank you), and every time I thought I had running the household well in hand, I realized that I didn’t.
On Wednesday, we had J’s piano practice at Mary‘s, homework for both girls, and J’s gymnastics, which is a freaking hike away from us. I was dreading the piano practice because J’s been miserable with her practice lately, and M and I were dreading gymnastics, because since Cute W wasn’t around, M was going to have to come along and be bored-bored-bored. So when J had a cheerful and successful practice, everyone completed homework, & I secured a friend to host M so that she could avoid gymnastics, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. Until I realized, hours later, that I’d blown off my CSA pick up completely. Ugh.
Yesterday I was doing a bedding overhaul, pulling out the warm blankets, washing sheets, and switching out my spring/summer duvet for my fall/winter comforter. So everything was clean and fresh, and then I realized that I didn’t know where my comforter was. Like, at all. It’s a huge comforter in a small house. Where could I have put it? So irritating. I went to bed without it. Overnight I remembered: it was in the upper loft area of our garage. It’s too big to hide in a closet. I put it on a couple of hours ago, then stood back, satisfied. And realized that I’d forgotten to switch the dust ruffle.
This morning? Also poor. J woke up at 4 am and had trouble falling asleep, which meant when we finally went back to sleep, we slept in. I’m never strong in the morning, but I managed to get the breakfasts & lunches and tied bells to J’s shoes so that she could be the Fine Lady Upon a White Horse for nursery rhyme day, and got them out the door. Then I managed to make and almost eat my breakfast before rushing off to the school library to volunteer for M’s class. Again, feeling slightly impressed with myself that I’d been so patient with a whiny J and that I’d incorporated 5 different fruits & vegetables into the girls’ food. But as soon as I saw M in the library, I knew something wasn’t okay. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “I forgot my cello–but don’t go get it,” she answered, miserable. The night before at Back to School Night, we’d listened to M’s teacher talking about how one of the big goals of 4th grade is getting the kids to take responsibility for themselves, so we shouldn’t help them by driving in forgotten homework or instruments or hats. And we parents smiled along, agreeing in theory, even as one or two snuck spelling notebooks home for a final pre-test review. The good thing is that the teacher has the kids on board, so M knew it was her own fault that she didn’t have her cello. And I knew, too, in theory. But really, it feels like my fault. In fact, I had a half-weepy essay written in my head while doing errands, but I just don’t have the energy.
So how’s everyone else doing with their new school routines? Better than I am, I hope!