All is Calm, All is Bright

I feel like some sort of pioneer woman. Not the kind who has to get up at 4am and milk a cow without even the distraction of playing Angry Birds, or The Pioneer Woman, who is crazy awesome, but the kind who each day has a set chore. Monday, dusting*. Tuesday, vacuuming. Today was laundry. See, if I did this kind of thing everyday, shit wouldn't totally fall apart like it did. Well, and also there was that bone-crushing winter/spring of migraines and Topamax and allergies and depression and such, but still. I see now why those women did it this way. The tackle-one-thing-at-a-time, grinding routine of it is manageable and soothing.

Since today was Laundry, I caught up on Jellybean's billion little dirty socks (why do they ALL have to be inside out? Every single one? Argh.), switched over all my summer stuff (STOP BUYING GREEN CARGO CAPRI PANTS), filled a bag for Goodwill, and filled a Rubbermaid bin for consignment. Sweet! My deal is, if I didn't wear something at all last season, I have to get rid of it. Harsh, but fair.

Jelly will be coming home soon with her extra clothes from preschool, since Tuesday will be her last official day. My parents and brother will be here after that, so she'll be out next Thursday, and then the following Tuesday is the end-of-year picnic. It's going to be a hard adjustment when she realizes it's done. Even worse, I realized there are only 3 soccer classes left! WTF?! 10 weeks has FLOWN by. I love Coach Josh, and I adore the Canadian dude who owns the company. But summer means swimming, so it's time to move on. Will one of you please tell her no more soccer either?

The forecast for the next week is nothing but rain. Because I am compulsive, I have of course looked at the 10-day forecast for her birthday party, and as of now it is a 40% chance of rain also. All you internet fairies must clap your hands very, very hard, because it MUST NOT RAIN for her party. There is to be no end of the world on May 21st, and there is to be no rain. It is to be sunny, and 80 degrees, and all will be well.

*I did not dust.