Last week was a whirlwind of end of year kid shit. School carnival, dance recital, 3 birthday parties to attend (not to mention shop for gifts to wrap and give), pre-school graduation, 3rd grade play, last PTA meeting of the year, last day of school, Father's Day....and as Hubby scheduled a real busy week, I was up early each day with the girls and prepared for the events at hand. I had to be 'on' all week. I don't do 'on' on a regular basis. I don't do perky. But, I rose to the occasion, showered each day before the girls woke up (which is a feat unto itself) and went about the various and sundry, shiny, happy things that I am supposed to do with purpose.
June Cleaver : eat your heart out! Most parts of our week went exceptionally well....
Here are just a few things that tainted my cork:
1) Hey lady in the ATM drivethru at the bank.. It is a drive-thru and not a full service teller. Have your shit ready before you get there, stick your card in , press your PIN and get your money and GO! This is not the place to apply for a mortgage or fill out 27 separate graduation cards with crisp $20 bills....that's why it's called a drive thru, see? They even abbreviated the word through because it takes too long to read it.
2) Hey gas station owners and credit card companies...if gas costs about $50 a gallon, why is the limit on credit cards $50 per transaction??? What the hell are we supposed to do? We try to be good and run our cars to empty (I don't 'top off' as all the reports are saying not to do) and we fill in the morning (as all the reports say to do - gotta do our part on emissions or something tree hugging like that). So I wait on line for the gas station that actually still takes debit cards and can only fill about 3/4 tank on my $50 limit. It actually costs about $80 to fill my tank. That's just friggin' gross.
3)Hey grocery store owners and chicken farmers...if I can buy those 8 breasts of chicken for $7.00 with my 'club card' (a.k.a. that little gnarled tag that dangles from my key chain), then how could it cost $16.00 just 'cuz I don't want to give my phone number out?? I mean really. It obviously only costs $7.oo and that includes the mark-up and all that crap. Why don't they just write 'effin $7.00 on the price tag? You actually get punished for not wanting to divulge your private information . Screw that. I'm done with that store.
4) Hey egomaniacal mom at the last day of school....No, the kid doesn't want your autograph! This is a true story. Our school principal is retiring this year after 11 years at the same school Too bad, he's a great educator and advocate for our kids. But I digress. After a tearfilled morning honoring him in a school wide assembly, he gave hugs and signed the kids' yearbooks. They were all clamoring around him waving their yearbooks and pens like he was an actual Jonas Brother and this mom, who scares the shit out of me really, starts taking the books and signing her name like she was , I don't know- Hannah 'frickin Montana. She is far from it. She is more like Roseanne Barr. All the while , the kids are sorta dumbfounded and don't know what to say. I (crouching down so as not to be seen) make sure my kid's book goes to the right set of hands. I knew they were his hands. Hers knuckles are hairier.
There were some things, however, that made me swirl with joy:
My girls and their various events of the week. They had fun. And were proud of themselves. Me too. My 8 year old got all A's and A+'s on her report card. She's only in 3rd grade - but armed with that report card and her winning Essay (see post titled Humongous) ...Harvard Here We Come! And my 4 year old can write her own name and sing her phone number the tune of 'Camp Town Racers sing this song, doo-dah, doo-dah'. Wheeee!
Watching anyone else but Lisa the 'biatch' win this season's Top Chef on Bravo. Go Stefanie!
(how sad is my life?)
Being listed on the blogroll of The Secrets in the Sauce (SITS)..I have had quite a few visitors and commentors. I have arrived.
Starting up the ol' SWIRL business again. Actually going to a Woman's Business start up meeting thing called Ladies Who Launch. Gonna bang the creative drums, so to speak.
Made it through the week with minimal tears. In the 'I miss my father ' category, I mean. I think it really hit me when I spoke to my consumately busy mom who finally admitted she was lonesome. I just can't get the moment we 'got the call' out of my head and that profound sense of loss I felt then, I still feel after 5 months.
And, of course, there has to be at least one really shitty event...4 days, eight pairs of panties, three warm baths, one suppository, several pedi-lax and one sore bottom, but Rachel finally pooped on the toilet. We are both wiped out with this one. But suffice it to say - I think we may actually be able to leave the house soon.
Happy Summer Vacation...let the games begin.