Today was our first day back to our home school co-op since the holiday break. Despite massive preparations the night before to make the morning flow smoothly, I was still a disorganized, chaotic mess.
Are we surprised? No. No, we are not.
Working against me was my lack of:
a) plastic sandwich bags
b) unused plastic food storage containers
c) plastic wrap
d) foil
Just try to pack lunches for 5 people without the above items. Go ahead. I dare you.
I remembered that once upon a time, I purchased sandwich bags to keep in the car, so I could easily bag up snacks if ever the need arose.
It appears that at one point in my life, I had a brain.
I sent Daisy Mae out to the car to get said bags. She came in screaming her head off.
Yes. She found two bags, but fell on the concrete patio, dropped one bag, and would, apparently, not be able to move or stop crying for the rest of her life.
So. I had one, plastic sandwich baggie. Go ahead. Try to pack lunches for 5 people with one sandwich sized plastic baggie. I dare you.
Then I remembered the camp trailer! Yes! The camp trailer! So, I sent Sweet Pea out to the trailer and told her to find and bring back anything that could hold food. She found the mother lode and brought back a plethora of sandwich bags.
Redemption!
After much running around, I finally had everyone dressed and fed, except for Handsome Dude. Handsome Dude has a fear of everything, ever since his little accident. One of those fears is now washing his hair.
The shower is out of the question. Because the shower is the devil. Clearly.
Putting a plastic trash bag (yes, I had those!) over his leg was out of the question so he could try a bath.
I resorted to sticking his head over the tub and washed his hair, forsaking the rest of his body.
Everything hurts his leg now.
Putting his underwear on.
Putting his pants on.
Brushing his hair.
Brushing his teeth.
Picking up his toys.
Eating his dinner.
Going to bed.
Not hitting his brother.
These are all the things that just cause his leg great agony. Poor thing.
We were to leave no later than 9am. At 9:15, I was half-dressed, running around, shouting for people to get GOING. Then I had to load that darn fire.
Oh, how I loathe it. It’s just so tedious, you know? And I always pick logs the wrong size and I have to go tromping back out to the wood pile. And then I get a splinter and soot on my face and sap in my hair. Super convenient.
But, alas. If I do not feed the fire, our house will be a frigid tundra upon our arrival.
And that would hurt Handsome Dude’s leg.
I run up the stairs and finish getting dressed.
I look at my girls and say:
“When you grow up, promise you will be more organized than me.”
Daisy Mae: What does that mean?
Sweet Pea: She’s talking about her clothes. They don’t match. She wants us to match when we are older.
?
I totes matched. For the record.
We get in the car and drive about a mile away when I started to do a run down on what we needed to bring. Sweet Pea was supposed to pack a change of clothes for basketball practice.
Me: Did you pack basketball clothes?
SP: Yup!
Me: You remembered basketball shoes, right?
SP: Um . . .
Me: Quick! What shoes are you wearing?
SP: My dressy boots. Will those work?
*sigh*
So. We had to turn around. And, yes. We were late. Because we like to impress people like that.
Handsome Dude didn’t want to go to his class. Because it hurt his leg.
He didn’t want to eat his bagel. It hurt his leg.
The brownie was fine.
He didn’t want to ever go back to co op again. Because, “Mom. You know my leg? The one the log hurt? It not feel good. I can’t go to school.”
He could not be quiet at the library. It hurt his leg.
Running around the library in complete book-ecstasy was completely fine, however.
He could not join us for dinner. His leg would rather play puzzles. Plus the soup was “lucky.”
Lucky means “yucky.”
But his leg would be able to join us when it was time for dessert.
That boy.
And I love him.
***
This post is really, really, pointless. I am wondering what I even planned on blogging about? I cannot be certain. But I have made it this far. There is no turning back.
***
You may recall that back in the day, Sweet Pea had planned a library birthday day with my dad.
My dad was aghast that I did not include this in the blog.
So, let the records show:
Sweet Pea and Dad went to two different libraries and stopped for a corn dog and ice cream sundae.
I have no pictures or humorous stories to share in regards to this information. But it happened, nonetheless.
Consider yourselves informed.
Later, dudes.
How is it that you make me laugh so much with every post?
reading this post made my leg hurt! =o)
this is awesome. My goodness, you better stock up on brownies. We don’t want certain people’s LEG to hurt.
My leg hurts when I have to get up in the morning.
What Teresa said! Every. Single. Post!
Don’t get organized (or match) because if your life was perfect, we’d be bored and stop reading about it! I wish my leg hurt, so I didn’t have to clean up any more kid puke!
Only you can make a funny post about no plastic bags. I think your dad and Sweet Pea’s library date is sweet.
Your disorganization is part of your charm. One day your kids will grow up and you can have an organized house and life. For now, enjoy!
Yes.
Yes. I do know what it is like to pack lunch for 5 people on homeschool co-op day.
No, I never resorted to bringing a can, can opener, and heating bowl for the microwave due to lack of suitable containers/baggies and/or transportable food. Nope. That. Wasn’t. Me.
Co-op day. Doesn’t matter how early you start. Late happens. Am now packing lunches for 6 in town. Plus lunch for dad going to work. Thank you. But I think Monday is a really difficult day for co-op. who even wants to get out of bed, much less drive back to town? I say join one that meets on Friday. It’s easier on the brain.
My husband decided that he would pack lunches for himself and my 9 year old. He does it at night after dinner. He is a very sexy man when making lunches and I am a blessed woman. Be jealous, very jealous. I still pack the lunch and snack for our younger one, and that usually happens just in the morning at the last minute like the maliblahbla routine. Yesterday the bad mom, the mean mom, that’s me, forgot grapes that the 4 year old rarely eats but notices if they are missing, and she, the mean mom, also forgot to take 3 stuffed animals to preschool. 3 stuffed animals are necessary for the safety, well being, and peace of a 4 year old.
So pain is something new to Handsome Dude…and he sees that it can make, ahem, “unnecessary” things go away. Life teaches us many things. So glad there were lots of baggies in the trailer!! You are so smart to think of that!
When I was little I was scared of showers. You know, ’cause of the whole drowning fear. Weirdly, I’ve never been scared of baths.
I might have strange issues, now that I’ve thought about it.
Somehow I imagine you going through your day, at various times about to lose your mind and then realizing, “Hey! This will make a great blog post!” and that helps you push through.
You’re always right. Your life makes an excellent blog!
I’m with HD, I didn’t want to go to work this morning because my leg hurt. lol.
What is home school coop? I thought the idea was TO STAY HOME. Am I naive? Wouldn’t it be nice if daddy could come home and soothe the sore little boy for awhile? Anywho – extra vit A really helps healing skin. Jus sayin. Good luck. Your writing is indeed hilarious. Come to Glen Ivy with me.
I think the Tea Party was enough wonder and organization for a month and you are totally allowed to be out of several things at a time after pulling off an event like that. Especially with a leg that hurts taking up everyone’s time and energy.
I like the picture of you running around the house half dressed because I do that! ALL. THE. TIME!
Our poor children will forever be scarred!