Rush

It's a wee morning hour.  But not the wee morning hour that is enjoyable with coffee and sunrise.  More like, why the hell am I still awake?  I am taking a break from working away while my littlest nugget is sleeping.  I will surely pay for this tomorrow but I have gotten more done for my biz in the last three hours than I have in two months.

I could be...

decorating my planner and playing with my crazy amount of planner stickers. 
doing laundry or picking up the crazy amount of art supplies littering my table. 
scrubbing a toilet.  God knows they need it. 

Also, there is a lot of crazy in my life, apparently.

But no.  I am getting ready for the rush of a new selling season.  And it's rare that I can move myself to get all promote-y.  I have this intense need to NOT annoy people and well, sorry kids.  Tonight seems to be the night where I stopped caring.  I got my email scheduled.  I updated the book of face.  I even created ridiculously colorful graphics to spam the shit out of people before they start blocking me.  I.  Am.  Ready.

But really, I just need to schedule office hours.  I need to create a schedule.  To avoid future rushes.  And for someone with a planner obsession, this should be SO easy.  But picking a time and knowing that I will come first is just not the easiest part of my life.  Life with three kids plus one man child.  But you know who the real problem is?  It is not the three kids.  It is the co-creator of the three kids (manchild) creating the grief in my scheduling.
……….

Last night this thing happened where I was somewhere in-between losing my shit and giving zero fucks.

I had this plan where I would nurse the boob monster baby (BMB) to the point of drunkeness.  I even pumped a quick three ounces before I stuffed said BMB full of my heavy cream.  That is good for an extra two hours of pure freedom.  This was happening in the wee hours of the evening.  Before EATALLTHEMILK and CRYALLTHECRIESFORMOM happens (promptly at 7pm).  I was going to run like a bat out of hell to my MECCA.  The trifecta.  Trader Joe's, Target and The Rack.  I had backups for Homegoods/TJMaxx and Starbucks.  Pinch hitters or extra innings - whatever I could manage.

The spouse gets home after fetching the eldest child from school.  I am hovering a boob over BMB.  I am as ready as any mom with a 2 month old, in my classiest yoga pants, cleanest hoodie and neatest messy bun.  So, naturally - here comes a curve ball that involves family and birthday and dinner in one sentence.  If emoji's were okay on a blog, the side eye frown-y face would be RIGHTHERE.

I said yes okay no prob because that is what you do when it is family and a birthday and a dinner.  I will go later, she says.  It will be fine she says.  BMB has plenty to eat she says.

So dinner and presents was had.  Anticipation of mommy time was brewing and as we walk back into the house, the spouse disgraces my carefully calculated plan with the sentence, "I have hockey so be home by 8."  It was 6:30.  And BMB was all GIVEMETHEBEWBS.  This is another perfect spot for an emoji.

Not one pass through The One Spot occurred before "he's crying" flashed through my iPhone.  Well, no duh.  He is probably bored of your face and wants my face back.  I miss the days of no smartphones.  No text messages.  Or hell, any cell phone - no contact PERIOD!  Back in the day, the Co-Creator was on his own.  No guilt texts to lure back the overtired and overmilked mothers.

So naturally, I was rushed through Trader Joe's and Target and the Rack (like, for serious - these things are all in one plaza).  And I am still feeling like a crackhead who dropped their pipe mid-hit. 

I forgot the cornmeal and panic set in when I couldn't locate goat cheese medallions (cheese is SERIOUS PEOPLE).  I only bought the things I actually WENT to Target for (I must be coming down with something) and Nordstrom felt icky and because I didn't have time to get my browse on, I only scored face products I actually needed.

The problem?  I didn't get to indulge at all.  Not on interesting frozen goods.  Not on candles I don't need or dollar gift tags I won't use.  Not even on buy-ahead-for-the-growth-spurt clothing.  I feel sad.  Unfinished.  Unsatisfied.  My lifeblood at this point is errands, alone.  Its the thing I plan in my planner first and create my week around later.  I need dollar gift tags to signify that I actually leave the house for things other than school runs, doctor appointments, kids-eat-free mexican food and "real" grocery shopping.

I sort of wanted to kill the spouse when I got home.  I sort of still can't understand why my plans, NOT his, were insignificant and bumped automatically.  Is my time not as valuable because the basis is a mindless wander?  If that's true that is bullshit.  Nomads are everything.

My sister suggests scheduling time to go out regularly (same night) and while I guess regular can help I DID SCHEDULE IT.  So my question is, world, how do you schedule your time with the spouse?  Do you just tell them and pray they act like the over thirty year old they are or physically stick it in their phone with alarms sounding - ITSMYTURNFUCKER!!!! - ?  I am thinking that is the way to go.  It certainly will make my planner stickers hold more weight.  Cause let's get real here people - I can't be wasting no stickers.