that show, man vs. wild, always bugged me. I mean, first of all, why put yourself in those situations of the direst straits if you don't have to, and secondly, what about the camera crew, bearing their pain in silence along with you, big showoff. But I am thinking, since that one went over so well, it's time for a new reality show (are you listening, Ellen Degeneres?) : it's called "woman vs. civilization" and it's all about the ridiculously impossible to overcome scenarios that I (and a million other outnumbered single mothers) face every day, not by choice, and with no suffering camera crew. My only documentation help is my rapidly declining macbook. And if, out of the whole deal, I scored a new one, well, I'd feel pretty successful.
Today was the first day of school. We decided to go with the Jersey shore representation and I'd like to give a shout out to MacKenzie, for sporting more ass-crack and cleavage than any 13 year old should know about; Natalee, for bringing back the electrocuted look of the crimper on a premenstrual day, and Aspen, sporting the bump-it for the all out pookie look. Is that her name? The one with the bump-it in her hair? Anyway, I am glad that I am not totally sure about that. Hats off to Halle, who sported the look of "that kid". You know, the one with the totally legit tourist t-shirt and boys shoes. I took her shopping the night before. To Target. Thinking it would be a good place to find simple, yet somehow stylish clothes that she would wear. It was very much like what I imagine shopping with Spock would be. "Mom, those shoes are highly illogical." and, "can't you take out your fashion urges on MacKenzie?" because, according to Halle, fashion doesn't matter. Until she sees an oversized orange plastic watch that she has to have. "But mom, it's so cool!" "But Halle, fashion doesn't matter!" "Well you wanted me to care about fashion, now I am." "So will you wear the button down henley?" "no." "well, then I don't believe that you do care." "But this is my own style." "You have a style?" "Yes, it's logical." "Like a giant plastic orange watch." "exactly." "Ok." I am still not sure who won that one.
So I debated going to work today, feeling guilty about leaving them to find their way to the buses on their own. Turns out it's a damn good thing that I didn't, because the bus stops were all more than a mile away and we're still uncertain about which ones go where. I guess they will figure it out tomorrow. I won't say that I didn't have a two hour panic attack when I realized that the little girls will be floundering on their own off to school every morning, down the road 1/2 mile and past a sketchy trailer park, which, judging by their fashion sense, is where we should be living.
To add to the rapture of this glorious day, as I was rushing (illegally) to Redmond to submit a bus stop request form for the little girls closer to home, and then headed to the laundromat that has become my second home, I got a call from my boss, reassuring me that I was in fact, going to be laid off Sept. 30. That would all be well and good since I had another gig worked up with the other Arch crew here, except I think I may have given that job away to Hannah. Oops. So tonight I filled out the trusty old Costco Application. Again.
To compensate for the hyperventilation of the morning, I decided to use the SpaW gift card that Cassie gave me this afternoon. I went and had a "petite facial" and a 60 minute massage. As I lay there, having all kinds of wonderful things rubbed into my tortured pores, I was trying to force myself to relax instead of counting the minutes and calculating how late I would be in picking up the kids from their first day of school. After about 2/3 of the facial, I decided that they would all get home sometime tonight, somehow, and even if the police got involved because my children were abandoned on school sidewalks, I needed to try to enjoy the super posh spa. So I cuddled down into the ridiculously big robe that made me feel like a cross between Mr Miagi, Mulan and a sumo wrestler, and I attempted basking. SpaW is very clean, very formal, and very expensive. About three minutes into the basking I decided that if this was how celebrities lived, getting facials and all, I am going to be one. Then I can have a nanny pick up the ferociously stylish students, which is what happened after all. No sense in getting a nice relaxing massage if you can't get out 25 minutes too late to get your kids and nobody answers their phones and the traffic is backed up to California. I mean we can't have all that carefree relaxation going to waste now, let's throw a little bit of panic in there. Somehow we all made it home, and the only reminder of the massage was when Truck licked the residual massage oil off of my arms after dinner. But SpaW has fabulous cucumber water, and fishy crackers. Highly recommend. It all worked out and eventually I fell asleep doing my homework which consisted of three moderately boring videos, and then made a lovely dinner of the raviolis that Jessica left in my frig, and actually unpacked some more trunks and boxes and made the house that I may be kicked out of next month a little more like home.
tonight I think I will sleep. relaxing is exhausting work.
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