I forgot that The Hare had choir club this morning. She reminded me last night. We laid out her clothes, pseudo-packed her bag and planned lunch. Somewhere between turning out the lights last night and coffee this morning, I forgot that she needed to get up 45 minutes earlier. It was a normal morning. The Tortoise successfully got out the door, coffee was made and emails were being checked. I actually planned to take a shower this morning, a real wash-your-hair, shave-your-legs and maybe even exfoliate my face kind of shower. (It’s been about a two and a half shower week.) At about 7:15am I shuffled some papers together on my desk. Suddenly staring me in the face was the choir club paper: start time 8am. Holy Frick! It was a mad dash to pull a sleeping child from her bed, dress her while she was semi-unconscious, shovel food down her mouth, finish packing lunch…and yes, rinse off in the shower so I don’t stink up the place too much. Whew. And we made it by 7:59. I’d flip myself off for being so forgetful but I can’t remember which finger to flail. I’m starting to wonder if I could submit myself for a reality television show. Apparently the daily chaos on those shows isn’t an act. I LIVE IT. EVERY. DAY. Although it would be harder to sell, I suppose, since we don’t have a dysfunctional marriage and I don’t curse all the time. I could change. I’m not opposed to cursing.
A double-espresso, I like-it-sweet-and-creamy, shaky middle finger goes to my swollen over-caffeinated PMS boobs. They hurt so bad that I have to sleep on my back. Putting on a bra is excruciating so the only comfortable undergarment at the moment is a super stretchy sports bra. My “girly” doctor has told me for years how important it is to lay off the coffee and chocolate while I am PMSing. Apparently the caffeine aggravates the soreness. Really? Let me assure you, that me without caffeine, aggravates EVERYBODY! Someone is going to have to come up with a better solution…Mimosas. Maybe that is a better solution.
I love that The Hare has always been able to entertain herself with imaginary play. She is an amazing story-teller, but sometimes enough is enough all ready.
“Hare, you need to remove that stuffed dog from the table.”
“But MOM! Coco has to eat too. She’s a service dog in training.”
“Hare, you must go to bed right now.”
“But MOM! Baby Emily needs to have her diaper changed and her jammies put on before bed.”
The conversations go on and on and on…sometimes it is hard to tell if she is playing or really lives in La-La Land. And of course, some of her “play” is a little too real. A major-embarrassed, hard-to-see-yourself, flip off to watching your child emulate some of your lesser qualities.
Last night The Hare was showing me her new puppy’s home. She has a Maltese Mix (go figure). In the middle of her room is a kennel, a plethora of “dog toys”, a water bowl, food dish, and a make-shift door to the “outside”, complete with a bell hanging from the door handle.
“See mom, it’s just like Luna puppy!”
I surveyed the area and couldn’t help but notice all the brown Legos speckling the floor.
“Yeah, that’s great, but why are all those Legos out?”
“Oh – that’s the frozen poop no one has picked up.”