It's Never Quiet on the Western Front

I have come to the realization that my college degree failed to prepare me for life in the real world.  Italian?  Not using it. Not even in Italian restaurants, where, unless I pronounce bruschetta all Southern like, BREW-sket-AH, nobody understands me (then again, I have the same problem being understood in English).  Economics?  Really??  I don't think I needed that Econ 1D class to fully grasp our economic situation today (and yes, 1D was both the name of the course and the grade I received in it).   Art history?  I don't really cross paths with anybody who wants to debate whether Caravaggio's introduction of chiarscuro was the most relevant breakthrough in Baroque art (which, it so totally was, but whatever).

Viewed through the filter of a 30something, coffee-wired, rapidly-graying, short-on-patience mother, it is clear now that colleges need to offer Tactical Military Invasion, 101.  That is what  would have served me better than Human Origins.  At this point in my life, I don't need to know from where we allegedly come but I desperately need to have a firm grasp on where on earth we are going, or at least a vague inkling.

To say J travels a lot is an understatement.  He did a rockstar-esque tour of Asia for a month this spring.  Yes, a month, missing Easter AND our anniversary.  Yes, he  still owes.  When he is gone, that leaves me with the task of figuring out how to make the magic happen.  I don't think magic is quite the word I'm going for here, but it sounds more sparkly than the word logistics.

Here is a recent case in point:  J has to take a trip to the West Coast and that will leave him gone for the better part of a week.  That in itself is no problem.  Toss in the Sound & the Fury's activities and it gets complicated, to say the least.  Yes, I know we have brought all of this overscheduling upon ourselves.    We opt for this insanity for the betterment of the girls--broadening their horizons and making them well rounded individuals or something like that.  They asked to partake in these activities and as long as they are interested, we'll keep at this insane rat race. I am the antithesis of a stage mom and have had no push for these particular activities in any way, shape or manner.  Trust me, I would love to be selfish and stay at home, eating Doritos and watching a marathon of RuPaul's Drag Race.  That's how I roll.

This is where Schwarzkopf has to tip his hat to me (I know I just showed my age by naming Schwarzkopf as my general of choice, but at least it wasn't Patton.  Or worse--Sherman).

Stormin' Norman.  Not to be confused with our neighbor Norman.

One night during J's oasis of peace and tranquility with hotel roomservice, business trip, here's what I have going on--Sound, swim practice from 4-6 in Greensboro; Fury, soccer practice 5:30-6:30 in Trinity.  Breakdown:  30min drive one way from Trinity to GSO.  Therefore, I have in front of me, Option #1--I'd  take Lulu to GSO, come back to Trinity, drop PeyPey off at soccer, drive back to GSO to get Lulu and be back in Trinity by the time PeyPey finishes.  But what if Pey's practice ends before then?  What if Lulu's practice doesn't end at 6 & then I can't be back in time to get Pey?  Do I risk it?  Don't feel good with that, so I revert to Option #2--get the babysitter to pick Pey up from soccer and take her home until I get there from fetching Lulu from swimming.  Fine. I think I have it.

What's this?  Crap.  A note from PTSA that Open House is going to be that SAME night?  From 5:30-6:30? The same Open House that Pey has been drawing pictures of her family for her parents to see?  The Open House that Lulu has been drawing important American historic events on paper plates for her parents to see? I can't miss that.  Let's think a while.  Option #3.  Take Lulu to swim in GSO.  Run back to take Pey to soccer.   Ask another swim mom to bring Lulu home, sparing me the hour in the car so that will free up some time to hit Open House.  Still, I'd have to cut it short to run back out to the soccer field so as not to abandon my child and send her spiraling into a lifetime of therapy.  Which brings us to Option #4.  Take Lulu to swim in GSO.  Run back to take Pey to soccer. Beg another swim mom to bring Lulu home.  Run to Open House.  Get babysitter to go to soccer fields to get Pey.  Firm up the rear flank with the infantry.  Have the paratroopers drop in from the western front.  All hands on deck.  Two if by sea. Fire when you see the whites of their eyes.  Ask not what your country can do for you.

Confused?  So am I.  I need some Motrin.  My head hurts.