I told myself that I was not going to have any wine tonight because it is a school night. In truth, it is actually THE school night, the one before the very first one of a year that might be more normal than the last two years.
But, of course, that was before I experienced this day before the first day of the school year.
I think I must have forgotten the absolute MADNESS that happens on this day each year. There are school supplies to sort and label and fight over. There are haircuts to secure and fight over. There are first day of school outfits and nail polish situations and school physicals and sports physicals and screeners and notes and letters.
And of course, there was the matter of the missing bus schedule today that had me stalking bus drivers to their homes, texting PTA members and then, at my lowest, using Lily's phone to message teenagers on Instagram for the schedule.
I might now be a catfisher!
Anyway, the bus driver panned out (the teenagers did not and offered a vague array of times and "dunno's." On a bright note, Lily now has lunch plans after school. Well, technically I have lunch plans; but they are expecting Lily, so I hope she shows up!
So, I am having wine and inexplicably baking pumpkin muffins with a cream cheese filling to serve in the morning with a fruit salad made from our front yard peaches, our side yard asian pears, our heirloom melons and a sprinkling of the first 7 raspberries we grew on our year old plants. Which is all ridiculous and I sound like a total freaking asshole, but this is literally what I am doing and I cannot stop myself.
I am sure the muffins will turn out beautifully and not be eaten. OR burn and then I'll be yelled at for not baking something.
Earlier, before I was posing as my own child to get a bus schedule, I was reading through the 47 emails that promised to contain answers to all the mysteries of the year. There were no answers. There were, however, very large attachments which stuffed up my inbox and created a sense of panic in my gut.
I wonder if I missed the email with all the answers?
Probably not, but I'll never know!
Tomorrow, once they leave and return (quickly, it is a half-day), the real work begins. I am certain the letter from Lily's neurosurgeon will not be specific enough for the crew team (and I do have to actually register her for crew! CRAP!) and I am already missing Chloe's sports physical and even though we followed the school supply lists exactly, I am sure we are missing something critical like a baby blue three-prong, four pocket, poly folder that is exactly 9.5 x 13 inches.
But for tonight, I'll have to do is make my muffins, prepare my heirloom, Eldridge-grown fruit salad (which will definitely fall out of the refrigerator at dawn and splatter all over the floor), drink my wine, and rest my writing hand--for tomorrow I will sign and write and type and opt-in into everything, three times.
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