What is this is my circus?

  
Grand advice Pinterest but what do you do when it is your circus and they are your monkeys?????

That’s what this week has felt like…I am a ring leader of a full-fledged circus. And as the leader controlling all the chaos and those so called monkeys is my job. A job I don’t feel so equipped to do. 

I’ve got teen drama, teen woes, tantrums, conferences, hurt feelings, stress, holiday envy, holiday panic and holiday denial happening-ALL AT THE SAME TIME. I’ve hiked up my big girl panties so many times I’ve stretched ’em out. One more tug and that elastic is gonna pop like a New Years cork. The way things are going it’s going to happen on a day like today when I have on a skirt that used to fit bit now is a schooch too short thanks to an expanding—well to an expanding everything.  There was a rather drafty moment walking into work today that I feared the worst had happened. Not much to be done when you are on the sidewalk of a 5 lane road and have a moment of panic that you’ve tucked your too short skirt into your tights at the very moment your big girl panties give up the good fight. But I digress. 

  
I’ve got a 5 year old who is missing her 2 front teeth. Her grandparents taught her the song, all I want for Christmas is my 2 front teeth. So cute. Until 2 front teeth began showing up on every Santa list. And there are LOTS of list. Girl loves to “write”. So now I’ve got 10 list that start with various versions of front teeth as the #1 want. Trust me. That’s what it says. I know because I had to spell it letter-by-letter multiple times. 2 front teeth takes forever to spell when you have to take a snack break ever 2 letters. But I digress. Again. She has even made the comment,  “I tant wait for Santa to bwing me teef!” She then follows up with and an iPhone. She’s 5. I told her no phone. So she said “okay. An iPad”. She’s 5!!!!!  There is a split second where I am relieved that I am not her Santa this year ’cause so far it ain’t looking like she is getting anything she wants. But then there is the sadness that it’s the first time in her life she won’t be with me Christmas morning. Welcome to my circus ride-up and down and down and up. 

At 4 o’clock yesterday my teen asked to go for a walk with her friend. I answered  someting like “Sure. If you wish your cheerleading jersey that has to be washed by hand and air dried that you never washed this weekend like I told you.” And because I have such responsible and abiding children I didn’t give it another thought. 

To quote my 5 year old, “my bad!

Skip to 11:15 when a frantic, panicked teen is freaking out in search of her spirit jersey. Not did she NOT WASH IT-she didn’t even know where it was. Let me give an additional piece to this story. Said spirit jersey is worn twice per week. Said jersey has not been washed since basketball season started. Just saying. Again, I digress. 

How do you diagnose adult onset ADD? And can you trade it in for the ADHD model so I migh at least benefit from burning calories thanks to the H? Digress. 

Back to the story. Last night I sat and watched the drama unfold right before my very eyes. She finally found it. Wadded up at the bottom of the bag that had never been unpacked after last Friday’s game. At the bottom. Of the bag. It looked rouched it was so wrinkled. I couldn’t swear to it but I am pretty sure I detected a wiff of odor as she shook it out in an attempt to prove to me that it wasn’t really wrinkled. Um hmm.  I won’t bore you with the details of the conversation that included phrases like “never washed” and “I forgot” or “I didn’t hear you”. I managed to keep myself in check until…..dum-da-dum-dum…she dramatically with full in hair flail and quivering chin made the dire mistake of proclaiming,”you are the mother and should be helping me with a solution not giving me problems”. I imploded. My solution, I reminded her, was the wash the darn thing this weekend. You ignored that. My solution was to wash it this afternoon. You ignored that. At 11:39 the night before you have to wear it I have no solution. After that it quickly became my circus, my monkey but it did not become my problem. Her phone became mine but her dirty jersey did not. 

Our Christmas trip fell through so Santa is back on the job. Santa for a 4 year old is waaaaayyyyy different from Santa for a 13 year old and a 16 year old. List may get smaller but wow so the wishes get more expensive. With 8 days to go I have yet to wrap a single present, have yet to formulate a complete plan for anyone and have failed miserably in my attempt to ignore the trapping of the season. My kitchen table is full of semi-sorta gifts and wrapping paper but not a complete gift that would actually allow me to wrap anything. The one or two gifts I did manage to get make no sense in light of a lack of a trip. Oh well. Did I mention 8 days to go?  Yep this circus is all mine. 

Teacher gifts have to be purchased, prepped and sent by Friday..it’s Wednesday and I am in the middle of the I can’t compete phase of my breakdown. 3 years ago I watched a teacher unwrap a pretty and perfectly packaged Vera Wang overnight bag.  The current seasons pattern no less. I am pretty sure I didn’t leave my paltry little gift that year. The tumbler filled with candy would have just been embarrassing. I’ve been paralyzed with the non-compete-Itis ever since. Yep. Welcome to the big top. 

Gotta go shine up my top hat and get ready for another day as ringleader of my circus! 

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