Ditching the Devil on Your Shoulder – Perfection
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Despite our ravenous appetite for organizational products, news articles and TV shows, very few people feel that they’re effectively staying on top of the chaos. In a recent survey, we learned that over two thirds of women worried that they were not organized enough. Nearly as many indicated that they were constantly frustrated that they never able to get as organized as the experts say they should be. And worse, most felt they would never be buttoned up enough, no matter how much help they got.
Hello Readers! Hello? Helloooooooooooo? Drat. I was afraid this might have happened. You all jumped ship, didn’t you? Well, for the two or three of you (my relatives) who still stop in to read Musings of a Disobedient Mom, thank you! I really do have a legitimate reason for my gross lapse in posts. In fact, I could even provide you all with a real, illegible doctor’s excuse if you’d like… You see, I was diagnosed with breast cancer on August 17th. Shocking, right? Yea…you could have knocked me over with a feather. Let me briefly explain (and when I say briefly, I mean…thousands of words). 
Certain critical relationships in life demand intense scrutiny before entering into them. Most people would agree, for example, that marriage partners fall into this category, as well as prospective nominees for U.S. Attorney General. But what of carpool partners? Frankly, I can think of few relationships that demand a higher level of trust and compatibility. 
My partner loves her Bugaboo. I’ve hated it since the day we got it. It’s easy to hate. After you buy the rain cover and the car seat attachment and the mosquito net and the Breezy Sun Canopy and the parasol and the Snuggly Foot Muff and the latte cup holder and the grocery bag hook and the custom diaper bag and the Transport Bag, it tops out at well over a thousand dollars. A thousand dollars for a stroller. My first car cost me less than that. And try to get the thing into the trunk of a taxi while cars pile up behind you on a busy street. 
Over a month ago I was swayed into joining my first (and last) online swap.? No, not that kind of swap.? Get your mind out of the gutter.? Apparently mommy bloggers are big fans of swapping goodies with one another.? Especially homeschooler mommies.? When I saw the post promising my child the experience of enjoying a? “summerlong project,” while “learning about another child from another state,” I was intrigued.? I imagined Benjamin being paired with a little boy in another state–a little boy with whom he might become better acquainted over the summer–a little boy with whom he might have a lot in common–a little boy with whom he might end up forming a lifelong friendship.? Then, he was assigned a little girl. 
When I think of a word to describe me, I don?t know if ?tomboy? does an entirely accurate job. I do like sports and am probably more about function than form. I also wear some makeup and care about how I dress (somewhat). But I?m not a fashionista; I don?t have a bag or makeup or shoe obsession. My backpack goes everywhere with me, and when I?m not in the same pair of black work shoes every day I?m in sneakers.? Black tends to go with everything, and if I try hard enough I can make sneakers go with just about everything too. 
Whoever said that the Olympics come around only every two years lied. There’s a competition of games happening everyday, on playgrounds, parks and play dates all over the world. But there are no javelins or sprints or relay races involved, instead, crawling and walking and talking have replaced them. Light the torch and welcome to Pediatric Olympics!
