Maybe I should hold a meeting to discuss the meetings I'm going to make fun of herein

This was a long week. I can't recall the last time I've been this glad it's Saturday. I think 75% of my time at work this week was spent in meetings. Everyone and their uncle needed to meet to chat about something. Some of the meetings went nowhere and lasted 7 hours. Some of the meetings reached a consensus quickly but then people felt the need to beat a dead horse for another 2 hours. I got no problem meeting with you. But if we're all in agreement, peace out, dude.

By far the most insane meeting though has to be the meeting to talk about an upcoming meeting. I got invited to one of those this week. I chuckled and asked if we were in fact meeting to talk about meeting. No one else seemed to think that was funny. Like I care. Don't say crazy stuff to me and expect me not to tell you it's crazy. And don't forget to raise your hand and volunteer for some stuff either. Because it annoys me to no end when the point of the meeting is to brainstorm ideas but then no one wants to expend even one iota of energy to implement the ideas.

But that's okay, because I'm really good at pointing out people that have no tasks assigned to them and diplomatically getting them volunteered. It's all about maneuvering. Maneuvering I will gladly do out loud in the middle of the meeting. I figure they shouldn't invite me to the meeting if they don't want me to open my mouth. It's one of my best features. Unless you're my colleague trying to skate through without getting any extra work. Because in that case, I probably annoy you. I file that under the general heading of "Oh, well."

The other reason this was a long week was because I was on morning duty with my kids again. My husband usually handles that but he's been going into work early. I'm a little rusty on how to get everyone up and out the door in a reasonable amount of time. I think the kids sense my rustiness and feed on it. Or in the case of my 18 month old, he just screams a lot.

I think it has a lot to do with the fact they have to wake up earlier than usual. But that doesn't really make me feel any better when I'm in the daycare parking lot climbing into the backseat of the car attempting to drag my 18 month old out. He was playing some fun game that involves climbing back and forth between the seats. That's cute when it's a scene in a movie. It's less cute when you're wearing nice slacks and running late.

Thursday morning I figured out how to beat him at his own game by faking like I was going to go for the front seat only to snatch him out of the back. Except he wasn't impressed with my victory and began wailing in protest. Being the veteran mother that I am, I tucked that wailing kid right under one arm and picked up two backpacks and a pack of diapers in the other. And then I walked to the door like there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Behind me, the newest 4 year old trailed along weeping about the McDonald's pancakes she might have gotten if the McDonald's drive thru hadn't been nine deep and not moving when we drove by. I'm sure all the other mothers that witnessed us walking to the door were either horrified or deeply sympathetic. I didn't really want to know which so I mostly avoided making eye contact.

At the front door, I dropped the pack of diapers while trying to get the door open. Rather than attempt to bend down and get them without dropping anything else, I just kicked them through the door with my foot. I could try to characterize it as sliding them. I could try to tell you I was subtle about it. But the truth is I just kicked them. And I may have chucked the backpacks in ahead of me too. I can't remember. OK. I can. And I probably did. But I'm telling you I could feel the veins in my head about to burst and that squirming 18 month old weighs a lot and I was late for an important meeting and I couldn't figure out what I did so wrong to deserve that madness and oh my word it was insane.

This is the stuff they don't write about in the parenting books. The moments that make you want to fling yourself head first into a wood chipper. The moments you count yourself lucky to get through without shrieking at anyone. And that's why I'm glad this week is over. I'm hoping to be less rusty next week.