The More Thing Change The More They're Different

It occurred to me at 5:05 am, that I am becoming Zombie Mom, Zombie Friend and Zombie Wife. I could add Zombie Blogger, but I've learned this is a secret life that most of the people I know in real time don't care about and think is a waste of potential exercise time.

I'm spending time taking my son to visit potential high schools that we can't afford, ferrying different children to different events and I'm barely covering the minimum of what my house needs to keep purring along.

I've got four lights burned out in a dark laundry room--the tricky, special trip to the hardware store kind of lightbulbs. My front entry light is also broken, with the little nub of the teeny lightbulb stuck in the crack.

The flowers that were beautiful weeks ago have turned to seed, and in my allergy enlightened state, it was all that I could do to drag them out the door and put them on the ledge outside the window.

My husband is working late and getting up early. Some freaky alarm went off on his new iphone, and now I'm up for the day at 4:05. Speaking of his new iphone, all of my own iphone chargers and accessories have disappeared, hmmmmm. Maybe that's why he switched to the iphone.

My house needs painting inside and out. We need new windows and I've got a stack of unclaimed papers and bills a foot and a half high. I'm terribly behind on e-mail and...

WAH WAH WAH.

I will stop whining and get on with my day. After all, I get to talk to 8th graders about a fundraising rummage sale in 3 hours.

Why You May Want To Remove The Bubble Wrap

When you go on trips, sometimes you forget things. Sometimes it's your toothbrush, sometimes it's your underwear, sometimes it's your contact lens cleaner. Paula and I forgot that when you go on vacation without your husbands, YOU have to do all of the work. By yourself.

Arriving at the cottage in the pouring rain, it quickly became apparent that it was going to be a vacation powered by mom-power. Who was going to unload the bursting SUV? We were. Who was going to unstrap and haul the bubble-wrapped kayak off the top? We were.

The saddest part is that the list grew infinitely before our eyes:

1. Unpack? Moms, check!

2. Make the beds? Moms, check!

3. Put the melting groceries away? Moms, check!

4. Cooking

5. Cleaning

6. Laundry

7. Entertainment

8. Referee

9. Tuck in.

10. Doctor

11. Wake up

12. Watch over

13. Damage control

14. Fix it crew

15. Emergency clean up crew

16. Driver

17. Menu planner

18. Disciplinarian

19. Bed time story reader

20. Cleansliness moniter

I could go on and on. You, sadly, can probably get the picture. We had no one to shirk our duties to, unless it was each other.

By the time we had unloaded, sorted and made some food for the kids and various other things on the above list...we were too tired for wine, scrabble or anything else. Our first day of our big Girl's Trip and we were asleep. 9 pm EST. I think the little girls were still awake and running around.

Canadian Chronicles 2009: Are We There Yet?

We shuffled the girls through the rotation of sharing the hard as a rock, not-enough-room-for-a-little-butt-cheek, middle seat. By the time we hit a few grocery stores, the wine store (essential), and the sports store for a kayak, we had already been sitting in the darn car for hours.

And the rain rain rain came down down down.

Everywhere we went, the people were complaining about how it was the worst summer ever. We of course, hoped that we had brought bright, sunny weather from California. We refused to buy into the foreshadowing of gloom and doom.

Alas, we loaded our purchases into the car, tried to keep a stiff upper lip, and braved the torrential downpour.

At the sport's store, the nice man lashed the new kayak on top of the car, ignoring the pelting drops. He was Canadian, and he was making the best of it with smiles and sarcasm.

We drove slowly and carefully away from civilization. I squinted through the glass, trying to keep a steady eye on the road through the water-soaked windshield. The words 'Cabin Fever' kept slipping into my mind. As we twisted and turned out of civilization, I had flashes from "The Shining."

Eating Standing Up

Tonight I'm eating Phad Thai and downing my Pinot at a record pace. This is when I realize that I'm eating my dinner standing up in my kitchen. The kids are at the table eating their meal, and I'm taking a bite, then loading the dishwasher. Then I take a drink, and wash out the sink.

*Bite: organize the recycling.

*Sip: take a hairbrush off the counter and put it in the bathroom.

*Bite: tell John and Birk to stop kicking each other under the table.

*Sip: feed the dog.

*Bite: I.M. my life partner and ask when he might be coming home.

*Sip: serve Ruth more pot stickers.

*Bite: answer the phone.

*Sip: explain to telemarketer that I'm not home.

How many other women are out there eating standing up like horses? $40 take out and a glass of $20/per bottle Pinot deserves better conditions than standing up and eating like a horse. Am I wrong? Next I'll be sleeping standing up. Although it would save laundry costs and I'd never have to make my bed.

Thursday Early Morning Freak Out (In a Thursday Afternoon Perspective)

I have 20 minutes of beautiful quietude (if you don't count the neighbor's lawn service's power tools).  I've been rushing about non-stop and have an unwritten to-do list (item number one, write the list down).

I woke up at 5 am this morning and sat right up in bed.  I figure these are the moments that prove your brain is actively working during your sleep (even if that's not the case when you are awake). Questions were rolling through my brain with a panic. 

• Did I have enough snack for the Walk to School Program today?  
  
• Did I have too much snack?
  
• Would the parents approve of Kellogg's Mini Wheats and cut oranges as a snack?
  
• Would parents be upset that the whole snack wasn't organic?
  
• With the Swine Flu going around, should all of these little fingers be reaching into a bowl of any kind of snack without hand sanitizer?
  
• What time do I have to get up in order to cut up all of the oranges, arrange the snack on serving dishes and get to school by 7:45? 

Looking back, it's hard to realize why this made me feel so stressed.  It's all behind me now, except for writing that list.  Someday I will smile and think, "Those were the days."  (Then again, maybe not).