Slapped in the Face by the Wet Fish of Reality

22 Aug

What I have done since my singing lesson last Tuesday:

Wednesday:

  • drove to Northampton, MA to visit my sister and nephew (and get myself several hours closer to my kids’ New Hampshire camp)

Thursday:

  • left N’ton at 6:30 a.m. to drive to New Hampshire to pick up my kids from camp
  • drove home from camp with three plugged-in, sleeping teens and a carload of stinky duffel bags
  • nagged children to unpack their duffel and sort their Himalayan mountains of mildewed laundry
  • listened, cursing wildly, to the voicemail message from the school nurse telling me that they did not have the requisite blue health form necessary for my daughter to start tennis on Monday
  • cursing wildly, reprinted the blue form, certain that I had submitted a completed form to the school in June
  • raced to the pediatrician’s office to deliver the blue form before they closed at 5:00, and blathered on about how much I needed the form completed before the end of the day on Friday and how grateful I would be, etc., etc.

Friday:

  • took the middle son and the daughter to the dentist, where, with much sturm und drang the daughter convinced the dentist not to pull two teeth that were supposed to be pulled, winning herself a four-week reprieve
  • received a phone call from the school nurse that the completed blue form had turned up, so never mind
  • called the pediatrician to cancel the rush on the blue form
  • took the daughter to the orthodontist, who was not happy to see her with above-mentioned teeth still in her mouth
  • nagged children to unpack their duffels and sort their Himalayan mountains of mildewed laundry
  • called three dermatologists in the vain hope of scoring an appointment for the eldest son, who suddenly realized that he needs refills on his acne medication before he leaves for college…in five days
  • went grocery shopping
  • made dinner

Saturday

  • nagged children to unpack their duffels and sort their Himalayan mountains of mildewed laundry
  • went grocery shopping again for everything I forgot on Friday
  • nagged my husband to nag the children to unpack their duffels and sort their Himalayan mountains of mildewed laundry
  • retaught the 16-year-old how to use the washing machine
  • served as an expert sniff witness to deliver the opinion that the first two loads of washed laundry still smelled like mildew and needed to be rewashed, this time on hot
  • took the entire family to Boscobel, where we enjoyed a delightful evening picnic and watched a ROTFL funny production of “Around the World in Eighty Days,” part of the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival
  • while at Boscobel, sprayed myself with bug spray everywhere except my feet, which were therefore consumed completely by mosquitoes

Sunday

  • grocery shopping again
  • more nagging and laundry
  • laid out food and fed fifteen people (all family) who stopped by to wish the eldest son well before he leaves for college…in three days

Here’s what I have not done since my singing lesson last Tuesday:

  • written a blog entry about the last lesson
  • practiced my vocal/singing exercises

Improving one’s fifty-year-old self is a heck of a lot easier when the kids are away.  With a full house, my self-improvement program has taken a back seat to parenting.  Actually, self-improvement is not even in the back seat; nor is it in the trunk; i think it is being dragged along behind the car like so many tin cans tied onto the bumper.

Lesson #4 is tomorrow.

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2 Responses to “Slapped in the Face by the Wet Fish of Reality”

  1. Laurie August 22, 2011 at 2:31 pm #

    Do not nag children. Sing to children about laundry and threaten to continue singing until laundry is sorted, teeth are pulled and husband masters the art of nagging so that you don’t have to.

    That’s my advice.

    • Cathleen Barnhart August 22, 2011 at 6:02 pm #

      They would definitely rather listen to me nag than sing…think I’m going to give the singing thing a try. Thanks Laurie!

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