Acute CRS

I have the worst case of CRS (Can’t Remember Shit) lately. It started last Thursday with my eye doctor appointment. I’ve already rescheduled it TWICE because of my acute CRS lead to me scheduling things over my appointment. So I wrote eye appointment in huge letters on all of the calendars in my life. Thursday morning I looked at the calendar and said to myself, “Self. DON’T FORGET YOUR EYE APPOINTMENT TODAY AT 4:45!” So I picked up Soph, and started doing errands. Around 4:00, I kept having the vague feeling that I should have been doing something that I wasn’t, but couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Then at 1:00 am the next morning, I sat up in bed, muttering, “fuck fuck fuck fuck,” because it was then, 8+ hours later, in my sleep, that I remembered my appointment.

The next day, Friday, CRS struck again. Because my work schedule is so odd, and because Soph doesn’t have school on Fridays, it’s tricky for me to figure out who tends her those days. Throw in a random holiday (President’s Day) and my whole system goes straight to crap. E’s mom was SUPPOSED to have Soph, but apparently I calendared wrong. On the “Sophie Schedule” calendar that I cleverly made and gave to everyone who has anything to do with Sophie (but that I don’t have a copy of because I gave mine away and haven’t printed a new one yet) I effed up and put that she was at my friend Erin’s house. Because I didn’t know I effed up, and don’t have a copy of the calendar, I was shocked to find out that E’s mom had plans on Friday—plans that did not include tending Sophie. So E stayed home. I didn’t even for a minute figure out the obvious, that the calendar was wrong, and that Erin was probably expecting Sophie, and expecting me to take her daughter in the afternoon. When E informed me as we were en route to Vegas that Erin had called wondering where Soph was, I was mortified. I planned on calling Erin right away to apologize and explain, but didn’t. I forgot. I forgot yesterday too. So now, (IF I FREAKIN’ REMEMBER) I’m going to go get her some flowers, and drop by her house to apologize and explain in person.

I HATE dropping the ball. It’s something I never used to do. Now, I drop balls all over the place. At school. At home. With my friends. With my family. During incomplete sentences. I hate it! The calendar doesn’t even work anymore, because I read it, then promptly forget what’s on it.

As for a weekend update, Vegas was lovely. Didn’t win any money, but didn’t loose too much either. Drank many Crown and Cokes. We went to the buffet at the Aladin, and it was THE BOMB! Clean. Classy. Well stocked and served. I had my first falafel, and may I say—where have you been all my life delicious fried nuggets of chick-peas? Chocolate mousse, crab legs, fruit stuffed pork loin, creme brulee, roasted asparagus, etc. The time spent with friends was, of course, the best part.

Soph had fun with Aunty Kate. Apparently, she slept all night. Why is it she does this only when I'm not home? Such a mystery. I was lazy as hell Saturday when we got home from Vegas, and basically laid around on the couch with her. Sundy, the lazies still hadn't let go, so we watched rather too much TV. Oh--something momentous did happen that day. I needed to do a Wal-Mart and asked Soph if she wanted to come with me or stay home with dad. For the first time EVER she opted to stay with dad. This totally made his day, and made my trip to hell-on-earth much speedier.

Oh--my pop up blocker is blocking the spell check. Sorry.

Today's best thing about being a mom:
She's currently feeding Jimmy french fries, singing "Here comes the fry train! All aboard!"

Today's worst thing about being a mom:
This morning while we were all getting ready, she found a bottle of baby powder. Sophie. Unsupervised. Baby powder. Living room. You get the idea.