Discombobulation Is The New Organization...

I like to be organized. It keeps me calm and when I feel unorganized, all hell breaks loose.

Like this morning for instance, I woke up late. That right there sets bad things into motion. I ran into the kitchen to get the kids moving to only be greeted by a chorus of "Mom! I need you to do this for me today because I forgot to tell you about it sooner-like 6 million months ago when I found out"-but it needs to be done today... right now... or 15 minutes ago, whichever makes my head explode first.

So we run out of the house with shoes half on, me writing a check for some pygmies in New Guinea for the eighth grade service project, Emma crying because she wants to wear her pink coat and not her green coat and Mary still in her pj's, and Aaron sticks a piece of gum in his mouth because I am betting he didn't brush his teeth... but I am not about to ask him that question.

Today was also "casual" day as school. That means the kids don't have to wear their uniforms... but the catch is that it costs fifty cents to participate (another donation for those starving pygmies) and I opened my purse while in hot pursuit of the school and discover that I have $.75.

It was at that moment that my head started to spin out of control and I started yelling "I HATE THE MILITARY!"

I don't really hate the military, but it felt good to say it... it really did.

I gave $.50 to Emma because she is in kindergarten and I want her teacher to at least THINK that I have my shit together. I gave Aaron a quarter and told him to deal with it and I told Hope that she could get a "character building check mark" for all I care.

I mean, don't I pay tuition at this school? Why do I have to pay to let my kids wear casual clothes when I had to pay out the nose for the "one of a kind" uniforms that they wear everyday.

Seriously.

Today was also the day for the eighth grade graduation pictures. Now, I don't know about you, but when I was a kid, leaving 8th grade was no big damn deal. Not anymore... there has to be a party with pomp and circumstance, and a DJ that plays Beyonce's "All My Single Ladies"

Sigh.

Hope wanted to wear make up for her picture. HUH? Make up? What is that?

She even told me that ALL of her friends are going to wear make up and how can I, as a woman, honestly sleep at night if I insist upon her being an outcast in life?

I don't know where she gets her sass from.

So she tried to compromise with me. "Mom, I'll make you a deal, I'll only wear foundation, eyeshadow, mascara and lip gloss."

Ahhh... I see what she was doing. Start off big so that when the counter offer comes in she will get her way. I know her kind-I AM her kind.

Eventually we agreed upon foundation to cover her pimple on her chin, mascara and lip gloss.

Ugh.

Next think you know she'll want a tattoo and a belly button ring.

Kids.

Oh, and Emma told me this morning that her boobies are starting to grow... and she was excited!

Lord help me.



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