I decided to make myself a real live schedule. I've tried them in the past, but I'm kind of a schedule quitter. But it's been sort of stressful around here what with all I have to do and the kids taking full advantage of my busyness.
So I wrote down all the meals we would be eating, and snacks. I wrote down a time table of activities for our day. I wrote down everyone's chores and everyone's punishments (like for when the kids decide to kick each other in the teeth or something). I wrote on multiple white erase boards in coordinating colors, and I even drew a few pictures.
Organization people, organ I zation.
But then the same thing happened that always happens. I hate the schedule just because IT'S THERE.
I look at it and think, "ok, it's time to do laundry now. It's Monday, so I have to do the white load.".
But then I think about how much I don't want to do the white load. Because who ever WANTS to do the white load anyway? No one, that's who. And I think about how I could get more work done if I keep ignoring the white load like I want to.
But there's the schedule with it's coordinating colors practically screaming, "You have to do the white load, Melissa. YOU MUST. And now."
So then I have to look at the schedule and yell back, "Oh really? Who made you the boss anyway? I don't have to do anything you say, you stupid white board."
And then we fight for awhile, and the next thing I know, my time allotted for the white load is over and now the schedule is yelling, "Look at that, you doofus, the white load isn't done and it's time to teach your kids' piano lessons. Get off your butt and accomplish something already!"
So then I have to yell, "Who are you calling a doofus? You're just a white board. And plus, my kids hate piano lessons, so why torture everyone?" And then I have to drown out its lecturing with an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, courtesy of Netflix.
But the schedule just keeps going on and on, with it's incessant reminders of all the things I don't want to do. And I end up with my fingers in my ears, rocking back and forth, humming the Oscar Meyer Wiener song.
And then my kids have to call Husband and tell him to bring home frozen pizza for dinner. Except that in real life they don't, I just WISH they would take the intiative to call and ask for pizza. Usually what really happens is that they walk in, look at me for a second and say, "Mom's yelling at the wall again. Hey, she probably won't even notice if we all steal cookies from the pantry and smear them into the carpet!"
So yeah, a couple days into the new schedule and I have to tear it from the wall and erase every third letter so that it can get over it's authoritative attitude and leave me alone already.
I really hate schedules. They are undoubtedly evil.