Consideration Running Rampant

Last night was one of those crazy, insane nights that only a Mom can relate to...after having a rather crazy day at the Red Cross office, I had arrived home shortly after my kids got home from school.


Let's begin with the youngest, 11-year old Daughter. She announces at the dinner table that she has a paper to type - and because my laptop is the only working computer in our house at the moment, it must be done on my laptop.

She also announces she has a headache, all the while moaning and groaning about how she can't possibly clear the table after dinner because she's in sooooooooo much pain. (As we've said before, she does have a bit of the Drama Queen in her. Go figure.)

The doorbell rings - it's a playmate who wants to play - and Daughter has one of those miraculous recoveries that always leave parents shaking their heads in disbelief.

Before Daughter skips out the front door to play for awhile, she whips out the Parent/Teacher conference reminder slip from her backpack...and as I see the date and time for this upcoming, much dreaded anticipated event, I groan...I had made dinner plans with some girlfriends that night - so I will now have to begin the rescheduling process. With my girlfriends - not with the teacher, of course.



Taylor, our 17-year old senior, announces that he has brought home his paperwork to order his cap and gown, as well as his senior announcements, and the order is due tomorrow. Of course it is. He's had this paperwork since Monday, but he waits until the night before it's due before deciding to spring it on us.

Because that's what all considerate teenagers do, right?

Ordering senior crap important stuff is not so simple - there's an entire freakin' catalog of junk to peruse through, and then filling out the order form requires a doctorate in English, Calculus and Physics. And you have to know your kid's height and weight. Right.



Brad, our 21-year old college kid, calls during dinner to happily announce that his Friday classes are cancelled, so he is driving home on Thursday night. This would normally have me squealing with delight - but my oldest son is...ahem...rather messy, and I have just cleaned his room in anticipation of a HUGE event we're having in our house Friday evening...and I was banking on him not getting home until RIGHT BEFORE THE EVENT in order to keep his room as clean as possible.

Convoluted? Yes. But if you have a messy kid, you'd understand.



And as I'm rushing to clean up the dishes after dinner (thank God for Crock-Pots. Seriously. I hope Mr. Crock or whomever it was that invented them has a special place in Heaven), so that I can head over to a girlfriend's house for a jewelry party (hey - Mama needs her bling), Hubs says,

"Oh - by the way - when you get home tonight - we need to discuss some stuff."

I immediately go on full alert, and say warily, "Stuff? What kinda' stuff?"

He says, "Well, we got an offer on the house this afternoon...and Kenny quit at work."

Both of these are momentous events, and I sigh. Really? You tell me this as I'm rushing out the door? Of course he does.

Because that's what all considerate husbands do, right?


So, I went to the jewelry party - quickly turned in an order - rushed back home - gave Daughter a quick tutorial on how to actually PRINT from my laptop - filled out the Senior Catalog order form - and sat down with Hubby to discuss the house & Kenny business - and then?

I collapsed.

Because that's what all exhausted moms do, right?

Peace.