Dude. Remember when you were young and fresh on the job and your vacation days went to, get this, actual vacations? Ah, those were the days. The days of milk and honey. Let’s all take a moment to reflect on our days of milk and honey . . .
Now let’s get back to the real world and reflect on life as a grown up. Yesterday I took a precious vacation day to go to a work celebration for my dad and my kids’ Christmas parties at school. The universe spaced them out just enough that I had to take the whole day off to attend both. So then I’m grocery shopping on my vacation day. Grocery shopping. I can’t think of anything less milk and honey than schlepping my cart up and down the frozen food aisle trying to figure out the best price on frozen tater tots on my vacation day. I also schlepped a kid to dance, did the dishes and made dinner.
On the other hand, I did also find time to get a run in during daylight hours instead of pitch black and I conditioned my hair. So it wasn’t a total loss. But still. Vacation days should be for big fun. Stuff that involves roller coasters, going somewhere you’ve never been or at minimum sleeping late.
On top of not being particularly enthused that my vacation day was turning into a series of errands, my son’s teacher did not successfully communicate to me that his party was starting at 1:00. His sister’s fifth grade party was at 1:30 and the rest of the school was 2:00. So naturally I hit the school at 1:30. We’re 25 minutes into her party when the mother of a kid in my son’s class is rolling in and she asks if we made it to the 2nd grade party. I’m all, huh?
Momma loves you! I swear she does! I blame your teacher for not getting the word out better! So what if the PTA broadcast mentioned it! They send 4,000 emails a day. I can’t be expected to read every testing single one! I’m one person! I can only do so much! And where’s your personal responsibility in this, kid? Did you hide that flyer from me? Are you intentionally trying wreak havoc on my stress level? Is your sister in on this? Let’s go buy you something expensive to help you forget my mom fail! Just kidding! Instead we’ll quickly shove you next to your reindeer and take your photo. We’ll also subject you to lots and lots of hugs and kisses until the guilt subsides.
Mother of the year, in the house!
And then we trekked back to the fifth grade party. Pretty sure all the other 5th grade parents couldn’t believe how long I was at the party. I normally split my time 50/50 in the hopes of avoiding anyone claiming I love their sibling more and requiring therapy for the rest of their life. So I’m normally a ship passing in the night at these gigs. No rushing required this time though. Guess that’s the up side of blowing off your other kid.
At least it’s Friday!
1. I located a genius product at Target:
2. My husband was looking pretty fly at my daughter's Christmas program the other day. He was rocking his Clark Kent glasses and nice little shirt. I'll take it. The kid's not rough on the eyes either.
5.At the office crock pot driven Christmas celebration, my team successfully left the crock pot on high for over 48 hours. There were like 4 people in the office today with everyone already off for the holidays and luckily one of them is a bloodhound and sniffed the situation out. The water cooler discussion afterwards was whether or not a crock pot can catch fire. It was the least scientific discussion ever and not one of us has any subject matter expertise. And yet, every one of us was willing to offer an opinion. And we wonder what is wrong with America. And I say that having voted, yes, crock pots could potentially burn down a building.