Running Myself Ragged

I’m writing this on a holiday Monday night. It feels like a Sunday. I am not ready for the work and school week to begin.

If I can just get through Tuesday. The rest of the week will seem tame compared to Tuesday.

Before I go to bed I need to:

1. E-mail the teacher about change in lunchtime insulin correction to assure her that my daughter’s afternoon lows might be a result of too much insulin at lunch.
2. Print out new instructions for the nurse with the new correction.
3. Print out new info slips to go into the lunchbox (I have a form that goes into the lunchbox each day. I write out what I packed for lunch and the number of carbs. The teacher records the blood glucose level before lunch. The nurse writes down all the insulin-related numbers.)
4. Make a sign for morning photos (explanation in a second).

Tuesday:

1. Get myself presentable for the day (hopefully a long, hot, uninterrupted shower).
2. Pack daughter’s lunch (counting, weighing, measuring, and filling out slip).
3. Scrounge up $1.40 milk money and fill out the envelope (I never have any cash, I’ll have to search for change).
4. Feed both kids breakfast (give injection). Dress them. Wash faces, brush hair, brush teeth.
5. Drop off daughter at school.
6. Rush back home to take photos of son with a sign announcing that it’s his very first day of preschool (yearly tradition to take photos of kid standing in doorway holding sign).
7. Hand him over to grandma to take him to school (and feel guilty while driving to work that I didn’t take him to preschool for his first day).
8. Put in six (barely because the photo detour will make me late) hours of work. Maybe eat a decent lunch (maybe eat whatever is stashed in my desk drawer or maybe order delivery).
9. Pick up daughter from school.
10. Bake an apple pie (don’t be impressed-my daughter wanted to bake from scratch but I got one from the freezer section).
11. Stand with keys in hand hoping husband gets home from the dentist before I have to take daughter to dance. Trust me, it’s difficult to keep a two-year-old occupied at the dance studio.
12. Take daughter to first dance class of the fall session. (Oh crap, just realized we haven’t filled out forms or written check.)
13. Feed daughter something quick after dance.
14. Meet husband and son at park for back-to-school picnic with apple pie in hand.

I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

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