Oh, Frabjous Joy, Calloo, Callay

And hip, hip, Hooray!!!!

Here’s the deal. I am a slovenly housekeeper. And disorganized. And discombobulated. And harried. And forgetful. And full of sentence fragments.

Through the month of September and October I wrote out the beginnings of a year’s list of school stuff for Pip and the youngest two lot. In a notebook. A black spiral bound notebook. They followed it every day.

Up until the week before the wedding, I had things pretty organized- including my notebook. After that…. things fall apart, the center does not hold, and neither do I.

Because we were skipping around quite a bit in several of our books, this was tedious, detailed, time consuming work. I had pages and pages of obscurely written notes like:

Th. 19 578-583 SWB N1; TL BL1 231-236 N1
And

T 2- 238-246 SWB; SHW ch3; TL N2 ;Ps 11-15 ; GGS 282-284; Heritage 34 (w/y2); ML 64-68

I know that looks cryptic, but it’s really not- the initials stand for books, usually, except N is for narrate, and the number after it is for pages, and TL is for timeline work, and the y2 is not some cryptic disaster warning, but a note that Pip is to read that book with the Youngest 2.

Oh.

Okay, so maybe that is a cryptic disaster warning.

And I had these notes of the hopping, skipping and jumping we are to do through our books laid out through the end of January.

And I was so totally going to type it out and put it in a note to myself on the family blog (which only the family reads because it’s private), except, well, there was that wedding thing. And then the 20 or so houseguests. And then the week I spent comatose after the wedding. So then I finished my recovery coma and went to get my black spiral bound notebook from the totebag of school stuff in my closet.

That sucking sound was my head imploding when it wasn’t there.

So then I got out the totebag of books I’m reading or going to read, thinking maybe I put it there.

That whimpering noise? That was me in the beginnings of a total panic.

And then I got out the totebag of various odds and ends of stuff I didn’t have time to put away before company got here, and, oh, hyperventilating now, it wasn’t there, either.

And then I got out the totebag of bits and pieces of wedding stuff- ribbons, tape, scissors, calligraphy pens, scraps of decorative papers, pictures cut from magazines, etc, etc- and you know it wasn’t there, either.

And then I looked them all again, plus a couple of bags of my Christmas stash just in case (No, I do not have a large closet. I have a FULL closet, but not a large one). I rummaged through my dresser drawer (which is also in my closet). I looked through the school bookshelves. I looked all over the computer table.

I cried. I did actually put my hands in my hair and pull- not hard enough to yank any out (I can’t spare the hair), but hard enough to hurt. I considered pounding my head on the wall, but my head was already aching and it hasn’t stopped all week.

This process of looking and looking again took this entire week, as I first started looking on Sunday afternoon.

Every day this week my new son-in-law stopped by and asked me how I was, and every day this week I mournfully said, “oh…. fine” in my very best Eeyore voice, and he, the eternal optimist and Saint of Good Cheer second only to that morning person and all around optimist that I married said, “Only fine?” And that was the very best I could do and it was actually a grotesque exaggeration because I wasn’t fine, I was miserable. I was a failure, an abject and total disaster as a mother, as a homeschooler, as a housewife, as a human being, as an earthly organism, as a carbon lifeform… you get the picture.

And today, today, today, today, my very favorite Progeny (I know you’re not supposed to have favorites, but right here and now as of this particular moment in time, I have one. It will be another one tomorrow, but right NOW my personal hero is…)
JennyAnyDots brought me this spiral bound notebook and asked, “Is this what you’ve been looking for?”

And it was, it was, it was!!! I fell upon her neck and dampened it with grateful tears. I clutched my black spiral bound notebook to my thankful bosom. I sighed prayers of thanksgiving. I felt that I might, perhaps, not be a complete and total abject failure.

“Where was it?” I asked.

In the lime green folder of recipes we’re using this month. In the kitchen. With cookbooks.

Of course. I should have thought of that.

Oh, and the the notebook isn’t black. It’s blue, with a thin black border. But it IS my missing notebook.

Some other time I might just post a list of all the things I found this week during my frantic searches, but right now my notebook and I need some bonding time. Alone.

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