What’s happening at the house of Vodka? WHAT’S HAPPENING?
On the stress meter (The one that goes to ten.) it’s about a THOUSAND.
It’s Tuesday, and here’s my to-do list for the week.
1. Finish all the seven page report cards for 25 children; their grouping sheets; their assessments; their math sheets, their language sheets; their writing assessments, their red folders, their portfolios and their placements for next year. In three days. Oh, and put together the plastic sand buckets/books/silly bands, and other various items I’ve bought them for their end of the year gifts.
2. Plan the menu and order the food for a graduation “open house” that I stupidly offered to have for Sassy on Saturday after her three hour long ceremony at the Oregon State University field house where she and 750 other high school classmates will begin their journey into adulthood. If anyone has the urge to take over the potato salad, cole slaw, deviled eggs and veggie and fruit trays that I plan on making while pulling an all-nighter on Friday night, give me a jingle.
3. Weed Wack anything that even REMOTELY looks like a weed in the billion gardens that I convinced Tightwad over the years that I NEEDED to maintain my SANITY. (Fortunately, I adore the “wild garden and wildflower” look. Unfortunately for my neighbors.) Then mow the five billion acres on the riding mower because I have NOTHING ELSE TO DO.
4. Try to forgive Tightwad for working 7 days a week for the past month and a half, and pulling an all-nighter last night during a CONCRETE POUR – because frankly the no-money thing is getting old.
5. Track down Sassy and explain that although she does not officially go to school anymore, she can SURELY do some chores around the house while her parents are WORKING to pay for all the various things she HAS TO HAVE for graduation and beach week. If anyone sees her land after that trip to the moon I sent her on, send her our way. She's got a mighty long to-do list.
6. Hide the baskets and tubs around the living room that hold the various mail, magazines, books, letters and bills that we like to ignore until the phone starts ringing off the hook. If I can’t SEE it, it’s not there. Hiding = Cleaning. Right?
7. Make the MEXICAN BEAN DISH that Golden Boy told me after school TODAY that he needed for their “country” celebration tomorrow. (I SERIOUSLY need a drink.)
Oh, and the last tiny matter that I must attend to before all else?
Try to heal my precious baby’s badly broken heart. (Bitchy isn’t so Bitchy these days.)
If I had a little magic wand, I would use it to show her that although these moments that appear the darkest are incredibly painful, they are often the ones that guide us in the direction we are surely meant to go.
