I Want the Mahogany Colored One, Though
I usually consider myself an organized person.
But, I am being defeated by the opponent known as preschool.
Yesterday, I almost forgot that it was cookie-dough pickup day. I remembered at the very last minute, with the woman in charge tapping her toe in annoyance at the sorry excuses for parents that came in just as she was getting ready to call us to come pick up our little boxes of frozen goodies that I had tocoerce persuade my family to buy.
They have a little calendar that they send out every month that gives the daily schedule, but there are so many other elements outside the classroom that need remembering. Cookie Dough pickup for one. Ok, yeah, it was on there, but since Mr. P doesn't attend school on Tuesdays, I didn't even bother to look at the dang thing. Then there are fall festivals, holiday festivals, birthday parties and things to buy for birthday parties, candy workshops, and many other things that just wind up circling around in my head like jets backed up at an airport. Except, the air traffic controllers are all on strike and none of the jets ever make it to the landing strip.
That is so unlike me. My former job required me to be ultrasuperorganized woman. If I was even the slightest bit forgetful about things, people didn't get paid, research didn't get done, and heads were gonna roll. Namely mine. It's amazing how motivated you are to be organized when it is your own ass on the line. Yes, I was stressed out, but I'm not kidding, I was so on the ball about every aspect of my job that I could have held a workshop. And the people I worked with would have paid to hear my pearls of wisdom.
But, the myriad complications in the life of a freakin' preschooler has taken me down. I have admitted total defeat. I know it is only going to get worse.
The other day, I opened the Pottery Barn catalogue and saw this:
The heavens opened up and the little rosy-cheeked baby cherubs sang adorably with their golden harps. The light shone down on me from above, and I was overcome. I knew that I was destined to have this wall set, as I usually throw away the Pottery Barn catalogues since I can no longer afford ninety-nine percent of the things in them. Fate had intervened.
Well, perhaps not the entire wall set, I don't think the wall in my kitchen is quite big enough to hold each piece. But that whiteboard! The mini shelves! The cute little cups to hold miscellaneous tiny items! I am completely smitten!
It is soooo on my Christmas List. Because I am certain that with this work of organizational art on my wall, I will never forget anything ever again.
And, I am just as certain that I want nothing to do with the weird little man/doll with strange oar legs. He/it creeps me out.
But, I am being defeated by the opponent known as preschool.
Yesterday, I almost forgot that it was cookie-dough pickup day. I remembered at the very last minute, with the woman in charge tapping her toe in annoyance at the sorry excuses for parents that came in just as she was getting ready to call us to come pick up our little boxes of frozen goodies that I had to
They have a little calendar that they send out every month that gives the daily schedule, but there are so many other elements outside the classroom that need remembering. Cookie Dough pickup for one. Ok, yeah, it was on there, but since Mr. P doesn't attend school on Tuesdays, I didn't even bother to look at the dang thing. Then there are fall festivals, holiday festivals, birthday parties and things to buy for birthday parties, candy workshops, and many other things that just wind up circling around in my head like jets backed up at an airport. Except, the air traffic controllers are all on strike and none of the jets ever make it to the landing strip.
That is so unlike me. My former job required me to be ultrasuperorganized woman. If I was even the slightest bit forgetful about things, people didn't get paid, research didn't get done, and heads were gonna roll. Namely mine. It's amazing how motivated you are to be organized when it is your own ass on the line. Yes, I was stressed out, but I'm not kidding, I was so on the ball about every aspect of my job that I could have held a workshop. And the people I worked with would have paid to hear my pearls of wisdom.
But, the myriad complications in the life of a freakin' preschooler has taken me down. I have admitted total defeat. I know it is only going to get worse.
The other day, I opened the Pottery Barn catalogue and saw this:
The heavens opened up and the little rosy-cheeked baby cherubs sang adorably with their golden harps. The light shone down on me from above, and I was overcome. I knew that I was destined to have this wall set, as I usually throw away the Pottery Barn catalogues since I can no longer afford ninety-nine percent of the things in them. Fate had intervened.
Well, perhaps not the entire wall set, I don't think the wall in my kitchen is quite big enough to hold each piece. But that whiteboard! The mini shelves! The cute little cups to hold miscellaneous tiny items! I am completely smitten!
It is soooo on my Christmas List. Because I am certain that with this work of organizational art on my wall, I will never forget anything ever again.
And, I am just as certain that I want nothing to do with the weird little man/doll with strange oar legs. He/it creeps me out.
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