September, that sirenous month full of the first few weeks of school and parental freedom, has lured me in once again, smelling of quiet cups of coffee in the kitchen, sunshine and secret boxes of Chez-Its hidden from the children. Gets me every year. (read next bit in a high pitched stupid whiny voice) I have time! Look! I can go for a run, prep dinner, do laundry, Photoshop pictures of "vomit" from my front yard, cure cancer, end world hunger, cut the children's hair! Whoo! Hoo! There is no end to my productivity!! I have super powers! (insert one of those rude fart noise people make with their lips here) Stupid 1/12th of a Gregorian calendar seductress.
But then comes October, making it's asinine pew pew noises as it shoots down hour after hour of my free time, like one of those duck galleries at the state fair. "Mom, we have some school forms for you to fill out!" "Six pages? For each of you?" pew pew "Would you be interested in volunteering in Ellie's classroom each week?" pew pew "We need weekly volunteer's at Katie's school, anyone available?" pew pew "Hey! How about our Girl Scout troop meets every week!" pew pew "We're looking for a few parents to volunteer at tonight's school..." pew pew "Mom, are you going to lead my Girl Scout troop this year, too?" pew pew "I can schedule Katie at 10 am on Wednesday with the dentist, but can't get Ellie in until 2:15 on Friday. Will that be a problem?" pew pew
Dudes? Do you know what this means? It means I have to make a schedule now. For my time. Because it's not mine any longer. (I can see all you working parents you know, through the computer screen, with your eye rolls and judgey attitude. Shut up.) My days have been stolen and it's stinky! I mean, no longer do I usher the little children onto the bus in the mornings, go back home and drink coffee, eat secret cheese flavored crackers while finishing up my book from the library, knowing all things that need doing will be done in good time. NooooOOOOoooo. I have to be all efficient. Making a schedule. And other stupid stuff.
And, you know what? I think I deserve a little pity.
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Or empathy.
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Or compassion.
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Or maybe just some commiseration??
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(collapses over keyboard)
Fiiiiiinne.
*angry sigh*
I'll be an adult this school year.
But, I'm not changing out of my yoga pants.
And
each Friday I'm still going to go to the zoo for the penguin's live trout feeding.
Because those penguins are hilarious!
Me and all the preschooler zoo regulars think so.
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