Yesterday was the first day of school. The house was full of anxious excitement. My senior got up early to work-out. My 5th grader wore a shirt with a collar and pants with pockets. My 8th grade daughter looked like a HS senior. I wanted to send her back to the closet, but I couldn’t find a dress-code violation. I got out the griddle and made pancakes from scratch. My husband packed lunches. Pictures were taken and then the house was silent.
 
My husband looked at me and said, “Am I wrong, or did that seem easy?”
 
I had high hopes for the day. I pictured myself using the freedom of the school day like this:

  • Clean THREE bathrooms (blinds & windows included).
  • Read or purge all my unopened e-mails.
  • Prepare and ship sales on Ebay, Etsy and Amazon.
  • Best of all, I was going to sit down to eat my lunch and read for at least 3o minutes. And, wait for it, I pulled out my 15lb weights and imagined between each activity bursts of light lifting, squats, push-ups, and burpees.

Yes, I’m an over-achiever and admittedly one could pass judgment on what I deem “high hopes” for a day.
 

Regardless, what actually happened is after about 10 minutes of productivity and peace; my son called to inform us that he was the beginning of an eight car fender-bender pile-up of teen drivers. His car is totaled. The car he hit has barely a scratch. American verse Japanese made vehicles is a debate for another time. Bottom line; good bye Pontiac Grand-am.
 
You are wondering, “Is your son okay?” Meanwhile, I am thinking, “Shit, forget the bathrooms. I need to make some money today.” But yes, my son is in enviable peak physical condition and apparently absorbed all impact to his six-pack core. No, Mrs. Robinson, I will not be sharing photos.

A condensed summary of the rest of the day:

  • I finished cleaning bathroom #1.
  • My husband and I intermittently tried to determine why my computer will not hook up to the internet. By bedtime, we decided the answer is my computer is a piece of shit, (which creates an interesting catch 22 for making said money and shipping said packages).
  • I was derailed from bathroom #2 by chaos of ten-year-old boy bedroom where I removed pictures from the wall, 100 nick-nacks & trophies from various surfaces, moved furniture, tore out contents of a closet, built a shelf, and mostly restored order.
  • My husband and I yelled at each-other a little, (he works from home – it’s glorious).
  • I Absconded my husband’s computer to print shipping labels.
  • The “blue screen of death” happened on my husband’s computer… while I was using it.
  • There was crying and a little bit more yelling.
  • I provided mini-bus service from the middle school, (the actual bus was over an hour late).
  • Piles of things I mean to sell or donate were moved from hiding places to the middle of my living room and then to new hiding places.
  • The crash test dummy came home, ate food and requested a car to transport himself to practice.
  • I surrendered my keys in exchange for a promise to take two bags of shipments to the post office and not crash my car.
  • I tried to get a dying cat to eat.
  • Made dinner for humans (the cat ate a little of that).
  • Several someone’s I will not reveal ripped loud & deadlies at the dinner table. We took the opportunity to laugh.
  • The ten-year-old went on a fifteen-minute rage about how we baby him and he has no privacy even though he is “double-digits now after all!”
  • Wine was consumed.
  • Laundry was folded
  • Schmidt from “New Girl” made us laugh.
  • Eventually, I showered and went to bed; where i cried some more because I couldn’t find my earbuds.

Today I overslept, by four hours. I have no particular ambitions and am currently on borrowed time using my husband’s computer while he hovers over me, (actually, he just gave me a “couple minute warning”). Therefore, instead of a thoughtful and succinct conclusion to the first blog I’ve written in over a year, you get this:
Adaptability and humor are quite possibly the most important weapons in the arsenal of being a mom. Or, maytbe mom’s should just set our expectations somewhere around “low to non-existent.” I wish you all a much better first day of school. After all, this is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year…