Here is my dilemma: Child A needs to go to the dentist at 12:00 and Child B needs to go to the first day of ballet class at 1:00. Said dental appointment will maybe last longer than an hour, and then Child A may or may not go back to school. How will I do both? This is not a life-ending problem or anything approximating it, but it has taken me three days to figure out how to make this work: Call the ballet studio and have Child B do a make-up class on a different day. Right?
Or just skip it because she’s four and ballet class is a perk. Right.
See. Not that difficult. But it took me three days to sort it out in my head.
It happens all the time now. I’ll be grocery shopping, with a detailed list from extensive meal planning no less, and suddenly I’m looking at noodles and am crippled by having to choose wee little tubes or wee little tubes shaped into spirals. Whole wheat or um, regular. Blue box or tan box. Fine, fine. Just make a choice and move on. And I do, only to have to choose between local eggs and organic eggs. What about local AND organic? White or brown? Regular or extra-large? Phil’s or Yuppie Hill or Organic Valley? Wait! Now Phil’s eggs comes in pink boxes AND gray boxes. Are they different? Why are they different? Is pink the new tan? I just want some eggs!!!!!
I’m calling it right now that someday soon we’re going to hear the term “grocery rage” or “market madness” where overwhelmed shoppers (okay, probably a mom with kids in tow, but really, it could be anybody) take out a whole aisle of eggs and run screaming from the store.
There is advice, of course, about how to deal with so many choices. Something like, make a well-informed decision once and then just choose the same thing or do the same thing every time. And yet there are more choices every time, or they rearrange the eggs so you can’t remember, or more likely the choices are so similar as to be non-existent and purely taking up shelf space and your brain is overtaxed and you can’t remember if you get large or extra-large eggs because they’re bleeping eggs and who the hell cares?
Of course I can’t distinguish any longer which is more important, a dental appointment we made two months ago or a ballet class we got into yesterday. Everything is presented with such urgency, and I’m not just talking about the whims of a four and a six-year-old.
Sigh. Makes me want to break some eggs.