Low brain day

I wake up this morning feeling good, feed the cats, and start working on dinner.  It's going to be a crazy busy day, and I'm a little smug about having a dinner plan already.   I have a big hunk of raw chicken in my hands when Noah says, "Why aren't you at gymnastics?"  It's 9:23.  Gym starts at 9:00.  Sarah comes flying out in her leotard, giving me the face that says simultaneously, "You are a total loser" and "I don't like you".  I throw the chicken in the crockpot and we rush out the door.

I go to turn left on Washington Road and see that it's blockaded off with a "Road Closed" sign.  I don't know how else to get to Washington, so I follow the detour signs, which take me all the way to Deer Creek.  I'm driving along this narrow country road between two tall cornfields without a clue where I am or where I will end up, when I hear an accusing voice from the backseat: "Mom!  Are you speeding?"
"Yes.  I am speeding."
"If you get pulled over by the police, you're going to make me even LATER for gym!  And if you get in a wreck, I won't even MAKE it to gym!"  Yes, she's right.  Why are my children more adulty than I am today?

By the time we get to gym, it's 10:00 and she still has half an hour of class left.  As I cram in with the other parents/siblings, it occurs to me that I haven't showered, brushed my teeth, or even zipped my pants.  The other put-together moms give me the sideways crooked eye.  I smile shamefully, zip up my pants, and apologize, "I forgot about gym today. And then the road was closed."  They nod condescendingly and go back to their magazines.

On the way home, Sarah asks me if we can go out for lunch.  My first thought is no, but the more I think about it, the more I realize I could really use a visit with cheerful Cathy, who works at Culvers.  I go home to pick up Noah, and we go to Culvers.  I have a nice chat with Cathy.  Then we see our former mailman from our old house.  I'm surprised that he remembers us.  When the kids were little, we used to sit in the living room and wait for him to bring the mail.  He would always wave and smile at us.  I tell him now that we don't even know our mailman. 

I set my purse on the chair next to Noah with instructions to "watch my purse" while I go wash my hands.  When I get back, I see my purse on the table, with Noah's face an inch away from it.  He smiles at me and says, "I watched your purse the whole time."

 

He drops his ketchup AND his custard on the floor and says, "I guess I have butterfingers from eating that butter burger!"  He makes me happy.  He suggests that maybe we should skip school today.  I'm thinking that sounds like a good idea since the rest of the day is packed, and my brain feels sluggish (I forgot that I like the chicken fingers better than the burgers at Culvers, so Sarah had to correct me when I accidentally ordered a burger).  So we are going to do Bible and history and call it a day.  I review some spelling words with them while we eat lunch, to make myself feel better.

So now we're home, having a little downtime before the rest of the day takes off.  We are filling in this week for some friends' paper route, so we have to go to the newspaper office, pick up the papers, and deliver them this afternoon. There's a parrot program at the library at 4:00 (hey, that can count as science, right?), then we're picking up a neighbor kid and taking him and Noah to their baseball game that starts at 5:30.  Then I  have to get Sarah to VBS at 6:00.