Today’s schedule:
Wake up at 7:30
Take Squish to school at 8:30
Get home at 9:10 (with coffee and sausage burrito of course)
Walk dogs, use the bathroom, leave at 9:50
Get to Chicken’s at 10:15
Get Chicken to work a little bit late at 10:50 because we stopped to get her food, and she’d had no breakfast. She was understanding.
Get home at 11:35.
Debate fiercely with self whether to go to aqua or not, conveniently forgetting that ZoomBoy should be out of school at 1:30. Or was it 2:30? It was definitely 1–wait, 2:30.
Watch it start to rain and give up on aqua. Besides, it was 1:30.
Forget it was 1:30, forget that it’s Thursday, forget Squish is out at 2:04, and go down for a nap.
Get a call at 2:25 as you’re out the door to get ZoomBoy. It’s Squish, saying, “You forgot it’s Thursday, didn’t you?”
Go HOLY MOTHERFUCKING CRAPBALLS in your head while you rush to pick up ZoomBoy, who, by the way, got out at 2:30 and is unperturbed.
Pick Squish up EXTRA late because we got ZoomBoy first.
Squish picks the place to get snack, because, well, ZoomBoy first.
Get home at 3:30 to a phone call from the dealership–come get car!
Leave house a little early, and realize HOLY MOTHERFUCKING CRAPBALLS I NEED TO GET GAS.
Have exactly enough time to get gas, drop off the rental and walk next door to get the old car with the brand new ass before everything closes.
Get home and pretend nobody’s hungry for dinner while you try to get just a little bit of work, please, just half an hour of work in, for the love of holy let me do my job.
Start dinner at 7.
Eat dinner at 8, when Mate gets home after dropping Chicken off at her apartment, with a complete schedule for how she doesn’t need a ride to work again tomorrow because her car is getting worked on.
Take phone call at 9 that you’ve wanted to take for quite a while.
See text while on phone that indicates somebody has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. You have no idea who.
Hug kids off to bed while on the phone.
Get off phone, spend five minutes with husband before he goes to bed, and ten minutes on phone figuring out that you need to take ZoomBoy to the doctor’s tomorrow before he goes to school.
Think– just THINK you’ve got the schedule down until Mate reminds you that Squish has choir, ZoomBoy DOESN’T have club, and Chicken will need a ride home from the Car Czar.
Sit down to do some frickin’ work.
Look at clock and see that it’s blog time.
Cry.
Tomorrow, a horrible, monstrous abomination of a human being is going to be sworn in to rule (not govern, rule, like we’re serfs) our country.
I personally will be too fucking busy living a life of community and family to give a ripe shit, or to read anything relevant to this farce that I can’t use the democratic process to fight.
And I’m going to remember that the things he says aren’t real unless he can legislate them. And if he tries to legislate him, he can be fought. And that community and family are bigger and more important than this aging flea-shit business failure on any given day.
I have more worth as a human taxi than this guy has on his biggest day. Whatever you are doing–whoever you are loving, whatever cause you are fighting for, whoever you are doing good for, whatever ideal or hope you are embracing–remember that you do too.
As I was recently reminded, sometimes the time spent in "Mom's Taxi" are the times best remembered for the funny stuff, the strange stuff, and the stuff that family legacies are made of. Back when "The Shrub" was making life miserable for all of us, and the conspiracy theories were flying thick and fast, the youngest one suddenly piped up during one of my rants against the moron: "Hey Mom! Do you think we could get Bigfoot to suddenly show up at the White House and just haul him off?" The laughter was cathartic.