September 1st. Somewhere in the world:
This year is going to be different. I’m going to have my shit together. I’m going to be the best mother ever. Becky from the PTA will worship me. Other mothers will fall at my feet begging, “what’s your secret?!”
1.) I’m going to make organic, non GMO, fresh, wholesome lunches made of laughter and angel eyebrows every night. None of this buying school lunch bullshit. We’ll leave that to the kids whose parents don’t really love them.
2.) I’ll wake-up super early to write notes every day to my kids, memorializing their awesomeness and the fact that neither one of them have been kicked off the bus yet. (Hooray!) I’ll tuck the notes in their backpacks. They’ll love it. It’ll be our little game. Some daily affirmation to let them know how much I care. Hell, I may even start scrapbooking!
3.) I’m not going to allow any lost library books this year. Nope. I’m going to hunt down the library book eating troll that haunts our home. And that zany sock eating dragon that lurks in the dryer. I’m going to be the essence of organization.
4.) Their outfits? Set out the night before. Labeled by the days of the week. Strictly Crew Cuts and that overpriced Scandinavian company for my cherubs. Speaking of organizing, I’m going to organize the fuck out of the closets. This year, I will know where everything is at all times.
5.) I’m not going to roll up to the bus stop looking like Marilyn Manson’s mugshot. No siree! I’ll wear those little Lululemon skirts that Peggy Perfect Ass from next door wears and straighten my hair.
6.) I’m going to get all 500 pieces of paperwork completed the very first night of school. I will trust that there is a valid reason that I need to complete 72 emergency contact forms. I mean, safety first. Amiright?
Also, I’m going to maintain my files like a boss.
7.) I plan to volunteer more this year. Maybe I’ll chair the Box Top Committee. Or read to the blind. Run a craft fair perhaps. There’s always the ice cream social. I like ice cream. The world is my oyster!
8.) I’m going to start cooking for the whole week on Sundays. I’ll put classical music on and there’ll be fresh ingredients flying around my perfectly clean kitchen. Maybe I’ll make some detox water. I need to drink less wine and more lemon, mint, chlorophyll and vegetable water.
9.) I’m going to sign my son up for music lessons. According to Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, children should be immersed in music during their formative years.
Yup. It’s going to be a good year. I can feel it.
September 8th. Your household. 7:37 am:
1.) Where the fuck is the bread? And who ate all the snacks? How is it possible to go through an entire box of Annie’s fruit snacks in two days? P.S. Thanks and fuck you, Annie’s Homegrown. #sellout
B.) Writing notes every day?! I can’t remember to do anything everyday. Like not even wear a bra. Where’s the paper? Where are the all of the pens? Probably with the bread. How about this:
14.) Where in God’s name is that library book? And all of the matching socks? I bought eight pairs of the same exact color to avoid this.
C.) The kids have gone through the five new back-to-school outfits that I bought so they’ve resorted to wearing last year’s pants. I started organizing the closets but then pulled apart the junk drawer, pantry and lazy Susan. Obviously, I became overwhelmed so I poured a glass of wine.
E.) Me. In the morning:
11.) Why are there helicopters circling the house? Oh no. I didn’t finish all of the paperwork. What if there’s an accident and they can’t find the other 71 emergency contact forms?
4.) Why the hell are there seven thousand school events in one week? Pajama Day, Bring your Special Shit to School Day, Picture Day, Red White and Blue Day?! Whatever happened to show and tell? My mom would rifle a Barbie in my bag and called it a Tuesday.
9.) My son is taking saxophone lessons. It weighs sixty pounds, he can barely carry it and like all of a sudden, I’m Kenny G and I’ve got to learn how to put reeds in the damn thing, only to listen to him slaughter Mary’s Little Lambs.
Don’t be so hard on yourselves, ladies. It’s early days. We got this. Screw the pipe cleaners and have an Alka-Seltzer.