En Fuego. Seriously. It’s like we are living like we are on fire around here. It’s not pretty. Not the kind of nice little fire pit flame or the warm happy tables with flaming pots you find in fondue restaurants.
It’s more like this.
I knew we’d been feeling the heat for awhile. Juggling sick kids. Sick adults. A tonsillectomy. School. Birthday treats. Cleaning out and donating an entire carload of clothes that are too small for my fast growing kids. An upcoming dance recital. Busy season at work – only it has continued an extra two months at this point. A new volunteer position. 90% good things!
However, the poo hit the fan this weekend when I realized that I can’t locate my son’s birth certificate. I found out a few months ago that I had “misplaced” his social security card at some point in all our home renovations… but I didn’t know I couldn’t find his birth certificate. The all-important certificate is necessary for him to be allowed to play baseball this spring.
At our Sunday afternoon parents’ meeting, the mom organizing the coaches and kids announced that she wants a copy of the certificate by next Sunday. Apparently all the other parents actually KNOW where their children’s important documents are and many had actually brought the birth certificate with them.
That’s right folks. It’s time to take away my “Mother of the Year” badge. I guess you could if I’d ever been awarded one in the first place!
Which I haven’t.
For the record, I don’t really buy into that line of thinking. My kids are loved, cared for, provided for, and as safe as I can make them in this uncontrollable world.
I could have probably spent Saturday afternoon looking for the missing document. I didn’t. We played baseball out in our yard as a family. Then the kids helped me transplant the roses and live forevers from my winter garden location to their new homes in the beds next to the house. To finish the night, we all put on ever-stylish bowling shoes and enjoyed more time together at the local bowling alley.
It was a fun day. I regret nothing.
I should probably start looking for that birth certificate though… after work, dinner, and bedtime for the kids…
Much love — Jen
Side note — if you search giphy or google for fire images… WHOA. That’s some weird stuff for your Monday!