4:00?

Ptolemy's dinner: peanut butter, frosting and marshmallows.

Let's see...what is on my calendar for today?  Not much, except that it says "4:00."  Usually when there is just a time and no description on my calendar, it denotes a ballet class.  Since we have 20 of them a week, I don't write a description of each one.  I just know someone needs to be in the vicinity of the ballet alley at that time.  But this 4:00 is not a ballet class.  So should I go to the shop at 4:00?  Stay home?  Stay close to my phone and wait for someone to call and ask where I am?  Show up at one of my visiting teaching homes?  Drop a kid off somewhere?  But where?  Hmmm...

Last night I took all the kids to the pool and enjoyed a glorious evening with the King cousins and the Scheullers.  It was heaven to finally be at the pool.  Except that when I checked my phone at eleven PM, I had missed two violin lessons!  While I frittered away a lazy summer evening, my students were wondering where I was.  I'm so embarrassed!  I had even texted them to remind them of lessons earlier that day.  I cannot believe I have sunk this low.  I did get some big, major things done yesterday, and I have found that as a general rule, if it seems like I am getting a superhuman amount of stuff done, I am probably forgetting about something else.  It never fails.  I should be very wary of any thought resembling, "Wow!  I can't believe everything is falling into place so perfectly!"  Red flag!!  Someone is probably waiting for me at a locked door somewhere.  Or there is a small child outside of a dark ballet studio who is sure her family has forgotten she exists.  Just last week, immediately after a conversation that ended with me saying, "OK, I'll see you in an hour," I proceeded to completely forget about the swim party that I was planning on going to...in ONE hour.  I remembered the next day.

Summer has officially gone off the rails.  I figured out how it works:  June is busy and fun and we're still accomplishing things and sticking to a schedule and loving summer.  July is full of travel and holidays and BBQ's, and by the time August rolls around, all the kids are sleeping in until nine and waking up with cotton candy in their hair.  The childhood equivalent of a hangover.  At every music lesson, I hear myself muttering, "Yeah, sorry, we were out of town this week..."  Except we're in town now, just highly unmotivated.  I might have to start making stuff up.  "Sorry we're not prepared, um...a mountain lion got in our house and the violin was on the floor and got stepped on, with all the animal control people and the tranquilizer darts and...I know right?  It was crazy...yeah."

So if I have plans with you at 4:00 today, please let me know.  Unless you want to hear a ludicrous excuse later about why I wasn't there, which could be entertaining.  I'll try to make it a good one.  Oh...I think I hear growling.  Better go!