The Road to Hell

June 22, 2009 – 7:47 am |

It’s paved with something.  I forget what.  In still more evidence of the Big Ideas and the Real Life thing, a snippet directly from my mind, as you would have seen it a mere three weeks ago:

I’ll blog this summer. You know – when I’m home with the kids – it’ll be easy this year …  Because I’ll be home, and they’re bigger now and can entertain themselves.  Yep,  I’ll blog, and I’ll mow, of course.  No need to pay the neighbor kid, seeing as how I’ll be home anyway.  I’ll plant some flowers, that’ll be nice.  I’ll catch up on my reading.  I’ll have to fit some work in, of course, so I’ll prep for my new seminar course while the kids play in the sprinkler.  I’ll plan that presentation I have to give in September during their down time.    I’ll clean out the basement and reorganize all the family photos.  Maybe I’ll paint that upstairs bathroom.  I won’t give up summer fun, though, I’ll make the kids some new playlists and share them on the internet.  I’ll definitely have time to start working on that book. 

In reality it looks more like this:

Mow before it rains.  Turn on sprinkler.  Break up fight over which sprinkler is better.  Turn off sprinkler.  Go in the house.  Break up fight over Mickey Mouse v. Spongebob v. iCarly.  Get kids away from house before they destroy it.  Arrive at library.  Turn away from children to choose book.  Hear crashing noise.  Discover downed library shelf at feet of 4 yob.  Assist librarian with putting it back up.  Break up fight over who gets to run the check out machine.  Get kids away from library before they destroy it. Arrive at playground.  Sit down with book.  Read three lines.  Lose one kid.  Shut book.  Find kid.  Live in fear of removing eyes from children again.  Apply sunscreen. Break up fight over who won the race to the bottom of the slide.  Administer first aid and put Spongebob band-aid on place where 7yob insists there is a wound, though I can’t see the wound.  Get kids away from park before they destroy themselves.  Rain coming.  Head home.  Make dinner.  See previous post re dinner.  Put kids to bed.  Take out computer.  Realize haven’t seen husband all day.  Turn off computer.  Discuss children.  Watch weather.  Fall into bed.   Toss and turn thinking “Holy Crap, that seminar class starts in two months!”