Not Sure if it was Kids or A Reportable Ransacking

     I spent yesterday in Buffalo at an annual education day. I came back to my office today to enough emails that I was alerted my mailbox was too full, and more consults and patient alerts than I thought possible after one single day away from my computer.
     Between work stress and the annual "Spring Schedule" stress, I stared at my computer screen this morning and realized that the feeling of barely suppressed panic has become normal for me anymore.
    
     Before I left the house to come to work this morning, I looked around my house in amazement. I felt like there was a good possibility it had been raided and ransacked, but, I honestly didn't care enough to file a police report. There was the same possibility that my children were responsible, and I am entirely too tired to care if the kids did it, or, if there was indeed a reportable issue. I tiredly asked the kids to at least start the washer before they left for school, and pick up when they get home, but, I know darn well they were nodding their heads earnestly just to get me to stop making these unreasonable requests. I am still waiting for them to change the bathroom garbage, which was the only thing I requested of them last weekend. As I walked out the front door and tripped over a truck on the porch, I noticed that my porch wasn't looking much better than my house. Sighing tiredly I decided to just ignore it and go to work. There was enough clothing on my porch to make me think at least two people must have been running around naked at some point recently. Since no one has shown up to inquire why naked people were running around, I figured it wasn't worth worrying about.
     Go ahead. Judge me. I don't even care. I haven't been home enough to enforce anything. And when I am home, I am too tired to care.


  
     This week is busier still, because, we are celebrating Kaila's upcoming 16th Birthday in a big way! Last night, I ran home from work, changed out of scrubs and into a dress, grabbed Kaila, and we were off to Buffalo to see Wicked.
     Today, I am leaving work early, and we are headed to my cousin's in New Jersey to spend some much needed beach time for the weekend. Honestly - we have no real plans. Just, "go to my Cousin Donna's house, and figure it out as we go" type plans. Sometimes those plans are the best ones.
     Also, Kaila has been instructed to bring her Learner's Permit study manual, as, she has just over a week to learn everything in it before she heads off to the DMV to take her Driver Permit Test. When the heck did I get old enough to have a driver in the family?? I can remember my own 16th Birthday just a few days ago, and that half excited, half terrified first time behind the wheel. I find myself getting a little more intense, when I lecture my patients who refuse to wear glasses while driving, now that I have to think that my kid will be on the same roadways. I used to think the hardest thing in the world was watching my kids learn to walk down stairs. Those moments when you hold your breath, and pretend you aren't positive they are going to tip head first from the top of the staircase and into the worst case scenarios are nothing, compared to the thought of putting your child behind the wheel. Ah well. I imagine I will be a mess when they start to move out.
     Kaila has a car already. A co-worker of the Bearded Man is selling her his car. It's a Chrysler. On the way home from Wicked last night, Kaila reported that she is thinking about naming her car "Gary" (We do that in this family.) "Gary is a good name." I said "I have a friend who just bought a Kia and named it "Mia the Kia". And her mother bought a Subaru Forrester, and named it "Forrester Gump".
     'Well. I have a Chrysler, Mom. If I did that, the only alternative is to name it "Jesus". And then I would have "Jesus Chrysler!"
     And this is why we're going to hell this week.


     Since I am thinking about it now, and the resulting guilt of it is bothering me, I should mention my pride and joy: my gardens. I planted lots of bulbs last fall, to try and come even close to my front garden looking nearly as nice as the local funeral home garden. I don't think it did though. Ever optimistic though, I bought lots of flowers this year from various school fund raisers. I am trying to decide if the lack of time to properly weed my gardens, combined with the more than usual amount of flowers that I planted between hauling children all over the country side for the last week, may have taken a turn from the intended "pretty and colorful" to "Gaudy and this is why our property values are so low". (I was once accused by an old neighbor of decreasing local property values, because of all the children's toys and bikes at my house. I was advised to please move the bikes to the back yard, but, decided not to on the spot. As far as I know, I am not solely responsible for the low property values around my home.)


     Anyhow. I need to get back to work, so I can have everything finished up for the day, so I can drive to New Jersey in a few hours. Have a Great Memorial Day weekend!


    

How to Make Stainless Steel Look Stainless

     The annual Spring/Summer schedule has begun. This year is prepping to be the worst yet. The other evening, I sat in the kitchen, surrounded by all the schedules normally taped to the refrigerator (You want to know why they are taped to the refrigerator? They are taped there because years ago, I thought it would be a fabulous idea to purchase all stainless steel appliances, and have regretted it every single minute since. Stainless steal is not meant for insane families who are not able to prioritize trying to keep stainless steel - stainless. Stainless steal shows every smudge, smear, filthy handprint and grungy less than perfect spot. Therefore, the obvious solution was to tape everybody's schedules all over it, and hope nobody notices.) piles of invitations, tickets, screen shots of more schedules, texts with schedules, doctor appointment slips, and, my so/so memory. It  has been determined that we have availability in our schedules for sitting in the recliner for more than ten minutes sometime toward the end of August. I am not even kidding.
     In the middle of the insanity, I thought it would be a good idea to join the gym across the road from work. Since I am trying the whole "I kind of don't WANT to go to hell" lifestyle, I decided that praying to become skinny is probably not a good way to stay out of the fire and brimstone, and I would have to try becoming skinny myself. Again. Nothing ever seems to work, and I don't know why I can't just accept that and be able to spend my days buried in books, wine and chocolate. So, anyhow, I decided to join the gym. Again. I can literally stand at the window in the front office at work and look at it. It's right behind Burger King. And, it's a two minute walk away, depending on traffic.
     Following are only a few reasons why I cannot get to the gym:


     Yesterday, I had every intention of going to the gym. Even if I forgot my workout clothes at home, mostly because my shirt was still in the dryer drying, when I left for work. Not a problem: I can just buy something to workout in.
     Except: One of the parents on George's baseball team sent out a group text (Bless her heart) asking if everyone would like to do an extra baseball practice that evening. Which prompted approximately four million eight hundred nine thousand four hundred and ninety seven texts of varying stages of confusion, but, still meant that I needed to get home and get George to baseball practice. (Bless her heart twice.)


     Today, I have workout clothes, I have a gym, I had time. But, the prom happened, and, once again, Kaila had one week notice of the request of her presence at the prom, and, now we are going to have to get her nails done. And Lexi too, because Lexi has been my saving grace, and the only child in my household who is willing or, apparently able, to do any sort of housework. She keeps stuff going, and has been getting dinner on the table pretty frequently lately, AND she was recently invited to join the Junior Honor Society, so, Lexi totally deserves a mani-pedi too.
     I could DO this though. I would just do half of my workout on my lunch break, and then the other half after work quick, and then go home, grab the girls, and come all the way back to the nail salon - also across the road from work, and we could do the mani-pedi thing.
     Except: my mother called, as I was finishing up the last thing I had to do before heading across the street to the gym, and, after a long conversation with my mother; there went the gym.
     Not even kidding. Every day, it's something.


     Some of you may recall, I attempted to turn the family room into a gym at home some time ago. There was an argument about a dilapidated recliner that Bearded Man had never actually sat in, at the time. The home gym ended up not working out, because, Bearded Man stuck that recliner right in front of the TV, and  has spent pretty much all time that he is not at work, in that recliner, watching manly stuff, as well as lots of shows that outline the possible ways that civilization as we know it will end. (Spoiler alert: it will probably happen very soon, and whichever way it happens will likely be very painful and very terrible. The solemn narrator of all these shows always seems very urgent about these things. The same pessimistic man narrates all these shows. I am not sure how they get him out of his bunker to come to the studio and narrate these things, unless, he is doing it remotely.) Anyhow. Bearded Man does not appreciate his recliner time being interrupted by people, and especially not people working out, so, no one is able to actually use the workout room. I have already found a new home for the behemoth workout machine that takes up approximately 1/3 of the room, and am just awaiting Bearded Man to move it. Anyhow, this explains the need for a gym membership. There is no logistic way to work out anywhere in my house without the assistance of children and dogs.  Only, I can't seem to get to the gym at a remote site, either.


     Ah well. On to other things. The last day of Sunday school, for this school year was this past weekend. As all things go lately, it was smack in the middle of obligations for the Annual Maple Fest, so, creative scheduling was needed here. I learned my Sunday School End of Year Party lesson last year. Rather than "The Blues Brothers", I had Lexi just grab whatever VHS tape she could find the fastest. And, although "Lady and the Tramp" has questionable moral content, I am pretty sure it was still more church appropriate than last year's selection. (And if you cannot tell I am kidding by that remark, then, seriously. This must be the first time you've read this Blog....) Anyhow, I brought in cereal and donuts and board games, and told them to entertain themselves while I cleaned my room out for the summer. It was the best day of Sunday School all year. It should also be noted that, I recently realized that the priest at our church is very much an active social media user. It has become my fear, that he will find out about this Blog..


     The Annual Maple Fest was also a success. The Library Book Sale waiting line was very civil, and, Bearded Man needed to be called to come pick us up, as, we were unable to haul our books home otherwise. Bearded Man has no idea that the exercise equipment will probably be replaced by more bookshelves, by the way. We are otherwise out of room for more books, and, I have a very real hoarding problem with them. I just can't make myself like e-readers. And, my kids are reading more and more. So, more shelving is the only real solution.
     When I die, I will probably leave them all the library in my will, and whatever poor soul gets stuck dealing with them will probably make a trip to my grave specifically to spit on it.


   This weekend promises to be crazy, but, it will end with the first Franklinville Book Club gathering. I am bringing brownies to a gathering full of women. Most of whom will want them, but none of whom will admit it enough to actually eat them. Because, that's just how we work. Either way, my kids will be delighted to get the leftovers!


   Till next time!