Busy Being. Or, How Can I Stop Being ME?

I have always been busy, as far back as I can remember.

I also have never had the desire to slow down.

Until now.

I enjoy my less-crazy life.  I have become one with my AMAZING Sleep Number bed.  I know the intimate details of my recliner.  I can sit, and just be.

But old habits die hard. 

Now, I have been working hard to get the Lyme out of me. And things are going well.  Well, not WELL.  I STILL have bitterness about the whole, "3-5 years of treatment, followed by remission rather than cure" bullshit.  But, as well as can be expected.

You see, I have been in treatment since Jan. 2012.  So, only 1 year.  And, my energy is at about 70%!  Big stuff, y'all.  Last year, I told Dr. Lyme I was at 10% for energy.  So, leaps and bounds, for reals.

But, not everything is coming back at the same rate.  Neuro stuff, still a train wreck of the gargantuan, midget-porn-meets-That-Creepy-Lady-with-the-catlike-plastic-surgery variety.  Translation=still working hard to remember where my keys are, then where my car is, and did I drive or take the bus.

But, since the energy is ramping up, so is the motivation to go back to Old Aimee.  (Not 40 year old Aimee, but batshit-crazy-plan-out-every-freaking-minute-of-every-hour-to-the-detriment-of-all-relationships-Aimee.) And then I plan.  I plan, and schedule, and look ahead.

Then, someone calls me.  Or I check my email.

And I realize I am back to double-booking.  And, triple-booking.

See, I co-lead Princess' Girl Scout Troop.  And, I own a business, which I go visit from time to time. More so when things are not going well. (I still have amazing ladies that keep all those balls up in the air like magic, so I am VERY fortunate.)  But, I micromanage my teen's homework, and I am the main motivator for a family of four.  So, me being all plann-y plann-y has gotten shit done.

Then, cue sickness.  Cue pity parties.  Cue pairing down of obligations.

But still, I must DO.  Do stuff.  Go places.  Have things happen.

And when I forget to note them in the handy dandy smartphone, the set of carefully poised juggling balls comes crashing down into my head.

For instance, Princess wants to go to Girl Scout camp.  Many of the other girls do, too. So we planned to attend an overnight campout, put on by others (instead of me doing all the work, brilliant, no?)  So I booked it. 

Also, I booked 7 nights near Yosemite at our timeshare. 

The same time.  Grrrrr.

And then.

I booked THREE THINGS for one day.  All happening in different counties.  Double Grrrrr. So, of course, I had to revamp, rebook, re-prioritize.

Hopefully, no one will hate me.

And it might just work out.

But in the meantime, I have to figure out how to not overbook.  Maybe I need to go back to the Rule of Three?  Maybe, because I'm getting energy back, I can up it to 4, or 5?

What do you say, Sky King?

:::crickets chirping:::

Until then, I could use some advice.  How do you NOT over-schedule you, and the whole fam damily? Spill those secrets!!!

Mom Of The Year

Many of you already know what an amazing compilation of fabulous parenting decisions I embody.  You all marvel at my ability to avoid swear words until they ignore my request to get in the car the 5th time.  (Truly, I have the patience of a saint.) Many of you frequently stop me in the street, to ask why I don't begin drinking earlier in the day.  And you all look at the wonderful children I have produced and raised to perfection, not unlike people marvel at the Sistine Chapel.  I get it----I rock.

But did you know that I also bring a wealth of daily practical knowledge to my children, that they just don't get in school? I also encourage communication and social development, through a wide range of methodologies.

Here, let me show you:

A few days back, I was a helper in my daughter's class.  That morning, she needed a water bottle to take to school.  The cabinet we keep them in was bare, so I looked to the sink.  There I found the collapsible ones (you know, the ones that could double as flasks that are light, collapsible and contain nothing that sets off metal detectors at stadiums?) that we had taken to Maui (we had used them for Mai Tais at the beach) and I noticed they seemed to be sand-free.  This, to the untrained, implied that the cleanliness level of the water bottle was acceptable.I filled that sucker up with water, being an awesome mom that wanted her beautiful daughter to be hydrated.

Later that day, I sauntered into my child's Montessori classroom, with bags of goodies for their class party.

Princess sought me out immediately, with big hugs, as she usually does.  I, of course, relished the moment.

She looked up at me with her earnest big brown eyes, and said, "Mommy?  My water tastes like wine.  Next time, could you give me a water bottle that doesn't have alcohol in it?"

Fortunately, only 3 teachers and 2 other parents heard.  And some kids.  Frankly, I'm glad I missed "share time" that morning.

Later, when we didn't have any way to open the sparkling cider bottles, everyone knew to come to me.  My car?  Fully stocked with all the beverage-opening implements you could imagine.

It's like I'm a Girl Scout for alcoholics---always prepared for a party.

Girl Scouts and the Soap-tastrophe

It's been a long week.

Sky King jetted off for a man-cation to bond with his brothers, leaving me with explicit instructions to NOT LET THE CHILDREN DIE.

He takes really good care of me, which is why I was scared to death when he left me for five days.

In the middle of it, I had to take Princess to a MASSIVE Girl Scout event, with 12,000 of her closest Girl Scout Sisters.  I survived, without alcohol.  (during the event.  There was a significant medicinal dose when I got home)

We keep her in Girl Scouts so she doesn't become a stripper. Or if she does, she's the Lead Stripper, like the one to make up new routines, or create new household items to dance around. She would be an innovative stripper. A groundbreaking stripper.

Meanwhile, I signed her up for Cheer Clinic, which might just cancel out the Girl Scouts.

Things are going alright, the kids are still alive.  I'm out of clean underwear though.

Right after he left, I noticed the dishes in the dishwasher were dirty.  I texted him:

Me: The dishes in the dishwasher are dirty.  What do I do?
Him: You're hilarious.
Me: Srsly.
Him: Ummm, run the dishwasher?
Me: Could you be more specific?
Him: Put some dish soap in it, press start. SMH.

About 2 hours later....

Me: I don't think you know how dishwashers work.  There are bubbles fucking EVERYWHERE.


Me: What do I do now???


Me: Why are you ignoring me?


Me: I'm waiting.....



Him: Sorry, I got your text while I was being screened at the airport, started swearing, got "special screening", almost missed my flight. Are you completely useless?
Me: Hey, that's unfair. The dishes are REALLY clean now.  SO is the floor.  You're welcome. BTW, how do I get crumbs off the floor? I was hungry while the dish machine was working, and my sandwich was messy. I didn't have any clean plates.
Him: DON"T DO ANYTHING.  I WILL BE HOME TUESDAY.  JUST GET TAKE OUT.


So I figured blogging was fairly safe.


How was your weekend?

UPDATED: The One Where People Are Assholes to Little Girls

You may have noticed, if you have gone anywhere near a bulk-buying club store, a grocery store, a home improvement store, or an outlet mall at all this past weekend, that it is Girl Scout Cookie Time. 

Yes, during the middle of lent.  So much for, "serving God...", right?  Although I'm pretty sure that God is fine with teaching girls leadership skills through the shameless promotion of cookie selling.

I have, as usual, a bug up my ass.  Normally, I'm not a huge fan of people; they tend to be assholes, and selfish ones at that.  But this past weekend, I have experienced two very wide extremes.  And I wish to discuss them both.

First, I want to talk to you about the Girl Scouts.  I was a Girl Scout.  Likely to get me out of the house long enough to regain some sense of sanity, rather than to ensure a future in leadership.  But I went, I did things, I wore the lame poly frock, top, and beanie.  I earned some patches, probably.  Meh, is the sum of my history with Girl Scouts as a child.

Then the Boy Scouts came along, and seemed to be in a vicious race with the Catholic Church, to see who could do the most PR damage the quickest.  Between the juvenile-reach-arounds and the anti-gay BS, I had grown weary of their crap.  Also, I'm not a fan of most neckwear for men or boys.  Ties are fine.  Ascots? Kerchiefs? Dickies?  No.  So Scouting continued to be "Meh" for me.

Then I had Princess.  I may not have told you this, but she is slightly distractable.  Slightly a free spirit.  Slightly a total doot-ta-do.  So when I got the little quarter-page flyer talking about leadership, crafts, sisterhood and community, I called.

And so it began.  They start like any crack dealer.  "Oh, here.  Have this.   It's awesome, try a little, buy a little more."  Or in the case of the Girl Scouts, "C'mon over to my place for a little get-together. I'm sure I can hook you up with a troop.  But if not, you could lead! It's really easy, and a fun way to be a part of your girl's life.  It's only 2 nights a month.  You'll love it."

Every. Damn. Time.

I signed away my life.  I think they have me down for the 25-year plan, I will have to check my contract. 

Then, I got a co-leader. She seemed cool, and the girls that wanted to join our troop were pretty cool.  So we began.

Each month, we had to go to Council meetings.  We would get info about upcoming events, cookie sales, etc.  But many of the ladies were a bit unfriendly, seemed standoffish.  My co-leader and I did our own thing, knowing that meeting the needs of our troop was our goal.

Fast-forward 3 years.  Our girls LOVE it.  LOVE LOVE LOVE it.  They love their Girl Scout sisters, they love meeting new girls, they love taking turns leading portions of the meeting, having an input into what we do, and why.  And how we do it.  They have really done so many awesome things.  They have spent their time delegating, problem-solving, creating, and giving.  I have been moved to tears more times than I care to admit.  These girls are becoming people-stewards of the earth.  They care, they love, and each year I see their progress towards leadership.

And each year, the girls sell the cookies.  Yes, they have Palm oil in them.  I'm sure I got a handout about GS trying to find responsible sources.  Whatever.  Yes, they are $4 (or so) per box, and they aren't necessarily worth it.  Whatever.  Neither are the Twinkies.  Or the Boneless Wings in your cart.  Who cares? Maybe you think lots of money goes to administration.  You're wrong, but I'm not here to argue that.  Maybe you don't like that some poor little boy who feels like he is a girl somewhere in our country was admitted into a troop and somehow this is going to tear at the fiber of Girl Scouts.  You are also wrong.  And you're a fuckwit, because you take someone pure and sully it with your hatred.  But I'm not here to argue that point-I don't want to make you look any more intolerant than you are.

My girls have an agenda.  It's called the Girl Scout Law.

I will do my best to be
honest and fair,
friendly and helpful,
considerate and caring,
courageous and strong, and
responsible for what I say and do,
and to
respect myself and others,
respect authority,
use resources wisely,
make the world a better place, and
be a sister to every Girl Scout.

That's all.  They have no political agenda.  They don't even know what a political agenda is.  They don't care.  They want to have fun.  And somewhere along the way, they learn things.

I'm here to tell you that my girls, ALL my 13 girls, learn so much.  The ones that are shy learn to speak up. They learn to speak to adults, answer thoughtful questions.  The ones that tend to be bossy are learning to wait.  The ones that are impatient are learning to share, and to take a back seat to another Sister.  And all of them?  They are learning valuable sales skills.  They have practiced math, approaching people, using manners, making change, and being graceful.

That's right.  They are learning grace.  How?  Well, the world is full of assholes that don't like Girl Scouts, don't eat cookies, are on a diet, don't have money, already bought dessert, or have some political justification for being rude to my babies.

Thank you, Assholes. 


Without people being assholes, Cookie sales would be just one more time where they shill for Da Man, getting "oohs" and "ahhs" from Grandparents, never knowing rejection, never understanding the importance of not letting "NO" drag you down. Today, they are just little girls, trying to sell some cookies so they can go to the Girl Scouts 100th Anniversary and donate some to local charities. 

Tomorrow, these bitches will fuck you up.  Because you snapped, "NO!", because you ignored them completely or worse, looked at them with irritation, they are learning the valuable skill of not taking adults' bad behavior personally.  They are learning not everyone wants what they got, even when they smile. 

They will stay in my troop, they will grow and learn and become leaders.  They will be the bosses, the managers, the leaders of the future, and they will remember that some of you are assholes.  Some of you ignored them when they were small, some of you have no tact, no self-respect, no decorum.

And my little girls?  They will destroy you.

And to those that listened to each sweet teeny tiny voice, who asked the girls, "So, what's 4 plus 4?" or, "How many boxes can I get for $20?"---Thank you.  Those of you that didn't want the cookies, but gave a couple bucks anyways, those of you that donated your boxes to our Armed Forces oversees, thank you.  And to the man that came up with tears in his eyes, turned to us moms, and said "thank you for what you're doing for these girls", I got a big ass THANK YOU!!!!!! for you.  Because you told us you knew there was some BS in the media about Girl Scouts lately, and you didn't want any cookies.  But you made a point to come over, to tell the girls "Good job", to make sure we all knew that we were appreciated.

Girl Scouts are volunteers.  We work hard.  Not for the patches.  (The godforsaken patches!  Hell, I might chip in to get rid of the patches).  We do it for our girls.  We do it because we know they are at risk, most of the schools are failing them, society is becoming a cess-pool.  People are so full of hate, lies, deceit, and selfishness.  We have to, as moms, do our best to counteract all that bad.

Girl Scouts does this for our girls, for millions of girls worldwide.  Maybe our particular girls don't need your donation, don't need your purchase.  But guess what they choose to do with some of the money they raise? They donate to Sisters helping Sisters, which provides camp and scouting materials to girls that can't afford it.  Yes, our girls are out in front of stores during the torrential downpours and the scorching sun, selling cookies to help their fellow sisters, sisters they will never meet.

Leave your politics, your hate, your rude ass at home,  Because these girls?  These girls are going to kick your ass some day.  Like the badasses I am training them to be.

UPDATE: One of the wonderful moms in our Troop insisted that I remove the black from her daughters' faces so I didn't look like a kidnapper.  And she loves our troop, and is proud of her loudmouth leader.  And she's awesome.  That's all for now.