September 25, 1985
I hate Sunday nights with the same intensity my children have for Monday mornings. After a weekend with no thought given to school and schedules reality finally hits about 7:00 pm. “I can’t find my library book. – What do you mean you want to carry your lunch? I didn’t buy anything to pack. – I left my homework at Grandma’s – My project is due tomorrow, I need more glue and will you drive me to school?”
Then there is the schedule to plan for the week.
Scouts Monday, we think, unless the meeting is changed to Tuesday. There is a doctor’s appointment after school Michelle will have to go to the ‘maybe’ scout meeting late and Julie to Grandma’s house (better warn Grandma).
Tuesday both girls have piano but if scouts is changed to Tuesday Michelle will have to take her lesson and we’ll have to do the shuttle run back and forth. (Forget supper that night.)
Wednesday is Brownies and Thursday dance lessons. Julie has dance from 5 to 6 and Michelle from 6:30 to 7:15 unless she joins a tap class, then she wills stay until 8:00.
Friday is a slumber party and Saturday both dogs, the car and yard need to be groomed. Now I’m back to Sunday night looking for lost library books, doing forgotten homework and trying to figure out when we will eat if we squeeze a PTO meting and exercise class into the coming week’s schedule. I hope what I’m hearing about joining a team of some sort is just talk. I think we should do something different and stay home one evening.
I just remembered its my week to write “The Boring Word About…” – deadline Monday morning.