7 a.m. My 6-year-old, Max, wakes me up because he has to go to school. “Five more minutes,” I moan from under the pillow.
7:15 a.m. “Oh my God!” I leap out of bed and hit the ground running. We have to be out of the house in 20 minutes, and I have to get breakfast made, make sure my son has all of his books, folders, lunch, and the papers that should have been signed yesterday, but I put them down somewhere and now I can’t find them. I do, however, find the paper that reminded the parents about Pajama Day, which was yesterday — shoot. I look over at my son to see if I can spot any signs of the irreversible damage that I’ve inevitably already caused the poor kid. He is sitting at the table, eating his cereal, seemingly unaffected by the repercussions of having me as a mother.
7:35 a.m. About to walk out the door when my oldest daughter, Zoe, jumps in front of us, blocking the door. “Wait! Mom! Do not forget that I have a game tonight! Can you pleeeaaaassse make sure to wash my uniform?” Ah, yes, it’s Friday again, isn’t it? “Sure, honey, but this is a little last minute, don’t you think? You’ve known about this game all week, and you certainly could have washed your uniform yourself.” She lets out a sigh of disgust before snapping, “Yes, and I would have, but we are out of laundry detergent. I told you this two days ago, and you said you would take care of it!”
Yep. Sounds familiar. I study her facial expression. It is frustration mixed with anxiety, and is that a hint of resentment as well? It’s too late for this one. The damage is already done. But I do intend on making it up to her. “Oh, right! And I will! Your uniform will be ready to go by the time you get home from school.” I kiss the top of her head as I grab Max and run to the car.
8 a.m. I walk back into the house after dropping Max off and am greeted by the dirty cheer attire on top of the washing machine. I slap my hand to my head. Why did I not stop at the grocery store that is directly across the street from the elementary school? Okay, back to the car I go…but wait…I should take a quick look to see if we need anything else while I’m there. I open the refrigerator. Well, good thing I checked! We are almost out of milk, completely out of eggs, and the unopened carton of orange juice reminds me that it is our turn to bring juice boxes to the boys’ game tomorrow. (Actually, it is the first game of the season, and I purposely chose to be “juice mom” for game No. 1 to get that enormous responsibility out of the way right off the bat.)
Proud of myself for catching that before it was to late, I sprint to the drawer to grab a pen so I can write it down while it’s still in my head. No pen. I open the drawer next to that. Nope. Next drawer. Bingo! I start to write out a list and realize that the pen is useless. Completely depleted of every drop of ink that it ever contained. So I put the pen back in the drawer and add pens to the list that I am just going to have to keep in memory. All right, I just have to jump in the shower, and I’ll be on my way.
9 a.m. I am blow drying my hair and wondering if there is a faster way to get the job done. I mean, when I get a blowout at the salon, it takes half the time and looks twice as good. It must be the watts. I wonder if the grocery store has a really good hair dryer with a lot of watts. Probably not. I’ll find out. I grab my phone and Google “best hair dryer ever” Oh, wow, who knew there were so many kinds of hair dryers. Some of them over $300. Yikes.
You know, maybe it’s the concentrator. I bet if I got myself a concentrator to attach to my existing hair dryer, I could get my hair to look like my stylist does. I look those up. Much more reasonable. I doubt I can buy one at the grocery store, so I’m going to have to order it on Amazon. I pull up my Amazon account and see that I have two items in my shopping cart. Huh? Oh my goodness! I never checked out after I ordered the boys’ baseball pants, and we need them tomorrow! Oh boy, I’m just going to have to run out and buy some after I go to the grocery store. I think the coach sent an email with suggestions on where to get some baseball pants for a good price. I click on my email. Oh, look! Victoria’s Secret semi-annual sale is going on — and ends today. Well, I’m going to have to get my order in quick while I have the website pulled up.
11 a.m. Yes, it is now 11 o’clock. The good news is I will be receiving three beautiful bras and five new pairs of panties within the next three to five business days. I also came across a website that had some really great cleaning tips that I am totally going to try when I get home. But first, I am going to sort through my coupons to see if I can try to be an extreme coupon shopper today at the grocery store.
12:30 p.m. Woah, I better get going. I wasn’t able to find any coupons for the things I need, but I found some pretty good deals that I can get at the drugstore by combining the manufacturers coupons I found with the store coupons, plus a 25% off everything store coupon and my loyalty card. If I am figuring this correctly, I can get four tubes of toothpaste, an eyeshadow, men’s body wash and deodorant, and disposable razors for about $3.75. I am definitely going to stop there on the way to the grocery store!
1:30 p.m. Okay, well, I did not figure it correctly because I guess the 25% off everything coupon does not really apply to everything. And the 2-for-1 deal on the toothpaste ended yesterday, but I did get all of the aforementioned items for just under $10. Not too bad! Next stop, baseball pants.
2 p.m. Perfect! I was able to get in and out. Both boys will be properly dressed for their game tomorrow, and I am on my way to get the juice boxes they need, so they will be all set, and all possibilities of any embarrassing or awkward moments will be eliminated.
2:30 p.m. I enter the grocery store and beeline toward the juice boxes. I am so proud of myself, and my husband will be too when he sees that I am thoroughly prepared for tomorrow’s game, and there won’t have to be any late-night convenience store stops. (Which is wonderful, because you have to buy each juice box individually and the markup is ridiculous!) I recall the items from the grocery list in my mind, and subsequently gather the eggs, milk, and even the pens. I also grabbed a magnetic pad of paper with a pen attached — to keep on the refrigerator for future list-making. I walk out feeling proud and accomplished and so free from the anxiety of being unprepared. Wow, this is what it feels like to be “normal.” How nice. I can get used to this.
3:15 p.m. I pull into the garage. Home just minutes before the rest of my brood walks in the door. I grab the bags from each of my stops, and I’m feeling so organized and uncluttered and accomplished that I even grab the empty Styrofoam cup that the old me would have just left in the cupholder. I skip in to the house…and am greeted by the dirty cheer attire on top of the washing machine.