airing my dirty laundry

I know I’ve been away from blogging for a while. It’s because I’ve been REALLY busy having it all together. That’s just the way I do life. I’m calm, I’m organized, I never let our clothes mildew in the washer. I certainly don't let my child eat string cheese for three days in a row before I realize the pack is rotten. In a word, I’m “together”.

This summer we switched Mills to a new school. I’m not going to lie. It’s fancy. When I went to pre-school, they scattered a bag of stale animal crackers on a table, turned on Care Bears, locked us all in a room, and it was kill or be killed. Toddlerhood is all about survival.

You can imagine our shock when, after touring Mills’ new school, we learned that he would be participating in yoga, science classes from a local museum, and eating meals prepared by a nutritionist.  Let’s be honest, as much as this looks exactly like our life at home (except not at all)… I had some concerns that Mills might run away from home. To his new school.

Part of my “together”-ness includes waking up before dawn every day, cooking a hot breakfast from scratch and (especially this!!!) getting completely ready for the day care drop off. Hair, make-up, heels… the whole nine.

Just a few weeks after we’d switched to the new school, I had an off morning. In 7 minutes' time, I was able to wake up the baby, feed him a pop tart (Which clearly just appeared in my pantry! Only organic non-processed food for us.), make his sippy cup of milk, shove him into something not-pajamas, pack his bag, find his shoes and herd him in the general direction of the front door. That left 45 seconds for me.  I grabbed some dirty yoga pants from my bathroom floor, threw on a sweatshirt over my tank top, pulled on my obligatory huge sunglasses and we made a run for it!  (It almost sounds like I’m really good at this. Like I do it every day or something.)

I wasn’t exactly sure about the carpool protocol so I got out, walked around to Mills and carried him to the enormous full-window front of his school. I smiled and nodded at other moms on my way out, hoping they'd notice my friendly self rather than my disheveled state. As I headed home, I made a mental note to never have an “off” day again.  The mamas at this school were of the "beautiful people" variety, and I had embarrassed myself a bit.

Once home, I called my friend Betty in Chicago.  It wasn’t until I plopped down on my couch and propped up my leg that I noticed an awkward bulge.

“Oh no.  Oh, please no. Nononononono NOOOOOOO!” I moaned.
"Ugh! What is the matter with you??” Betty sighed.  I'd obviously woken her up.
“I can’t even talk about it.  I’ll send you a picture.  Mills can’t go back to that school, though. EVER!”
“Huh? I thought you loved that place??” She barely got her words out before I'd hung up on her.

Lodged above the knee of my dirty yoga pants?  A crumpled up pair of dirty underwear.

I, quite literally, had on some fancy pants!

How did anyone keep a straight face that day?? Can you imagine how proud these people must be to have added us to their prestigious institution?  It’s a wonder they haven’t offered to pay our tuition yet.  Or better yet tried to hire me to work with these beautiful young minds.  Me, and my together self.  Stay tuned.  It’s only a matter of time.