To a T

Do you have weeks where things get so busy in such a random and unstructured way that it actually takes you several minutes to figure out what day it is? And then when you do realize what day it is, you aren't sure where the last 4 days have gone? 

This is all to say that it's been kinda busy. My husband is producing the Twin Cities Improv Festival (it runs through tomorrow, so if you're here in the Twin Cities, you can still buy tickets!), which means I have been in single-parent mode for a few days. I think it's actually worse to have him gone-but-in-town than just out of town. On the bright side, I did get to see him perform last night, which was fun. However, that is the extent of my involvement with the festival, unless you want to consider me the Official Caretaker of the Producer's Children and Other Non-Improv-Related Affairs. Unfortunately, this is not a paying position. 

Adding to the chaos is my unplanned decision to seek treatment for my back, which has an array of issues related to my scoliosis, a car accident several years ago, having been pregnant with twins, and poor ergonomic habits at the laptop. However, I will save the details of that adventure for another blog entry...let's just say I think I might have unwittingly joined a cult of some sort. 

Luckily, I was able to discern that today is Saturday, as this was the first day of T-ball for the boys. They are on a team of 10 four- and five-year-olds, which includes three sets of twins! You'd think this could provide a competitive advantage of some sort if, you know, there was actual playing going on...so far it's mostly like watching a pack of puppies chasing a ball, which is fine with me, as I'm not really into competition anyway. 

Highlights of the first day included Owen asking his coach midway through their "game" if they could take a timeout to go play on the playground. Then there was my realization that Aidan is that kid...the one who always wants to go first, catch every ball, and generally just have the whole thing be about him. As if that weren't charming enough, he threw a tantrum in the outfield when he didn't end up catching any balls...tears and all. I felt bad for him because he was genuinely upset, but seriously, how did I produce a child who is that into sports? Nature has a sense of humor. 

So now here I am...the chaos of the week is dying down and I am left with the rest of the weekend sprawled out before me. Maybe it's time to teach my boys how to play "Mom's spa day." They could learn to do pedicures, right?