Does it count as dinner as a family if we're all in the same car?

In my mind's eye, when I picture Spring, I picture delightful flowers, my perennials emerging. A garden filled with splendor, befitting the diva that I am. I see dinner grilled to start off the season... that lovely look of aggravation between spouses who each thought the other checked the propane tank before loading it all up. Alas, these are not the things that preoccupy me in reality.

In reality, I just see jam-packed Rt 80 from behind the wheel. It's the return of the spring sports schedule. I understand that the coaches are volunteers, and Lord knows I appreciate your time and dedication among all else. But, kind sirs, what's with the times? The times that you hold practice, the times of weekday games. 5 pm? who can get there all the time, at that time? And why are all the rest of these people on the road going home at 4:15? Get out of my way.

We are guilted into thinking a morsel of fast food will cause our kids to drop like flies in 30 seconds. Ok, but how many PB-J sandwiches with yogurt in a tube can they eat for dinner in any given week? Have you ever seen the results of a pothole at 30 miles/hour with a simultaneous yogurt-tube squeeze? It horrifies me to think that I am teaching my children that it is ok to balance a Capri Sun in one hand inserting the straw while steering the car. But when else are they supposed to eat?

Getting the young ones to whatever athletic endeavor they're in, rushing to fields, to schools you didn't know existed~ and special to NJ~ wondering why there's a Super Fund Site trailor next to the training field. By the time you get them there, racing to find cleats that, by God, you'll make fit since they are only one soccer season old, shin guards, lacrosse gloves and helmets, you feel like you've run windsprints yourself.

For moms like me that work outside the home, you know planning to leave work 45 minutes early to get home and make some semblence of a nutritious meal while skimming over spelling and math homework is like planning D-Day all over again. And the memory of me crawling under beds and grasping under couches to locate my 12 yr old's "male protective gear" makes me want to stay at work 20 hrs a day. Or at least not reach for any food, fast or homecooked.

Editorial Alert: Easter candy coma

The author of this blog regrets to inform her adoring fans that she has fallen victim to complications of excessive chocolate rabbit oto-ectomies.

Upon recovery of senses, self-control, and will power (or removal of all chocolate rabbit parts from the home) blogging shall re-commence.

Spring Breakdown

Spring is here and everything seems better with the extra daylight to enjoy in the evenings. It almost offsets the fact that tax time is here. Ok not really but I'd rather look at my tax bill with daffodils in the distance than piled slush.

Ah yes, moms~ that delightful time of year known as "spring break" is also upon us. Code word for daycare nightmare, it means restless kids who assume they are going on vacation because that what the school calls it. Why is it that you can never ever ever find a babysitter who is on the same school vacation schedule? You can't imagine how hard I've tried.

In  a scheduling tactic any mom who works "on the outside" will understand -- for the next few days, I'll be lining up every conference call I can, making sure the remote log-in is working like a dream, and making damn sure the camp registrations are all squared away.

And in the midst of it all, I think I many just do the most radical thing a "mompreneur" can do. I'm not working. Really not working. Cell phone off for a day. Voice mail set. PAAS egg dye ready to rock, and 2 boys I adore waiting in the kitchen w/ 2 dozen eggs. Say I prayer that my dogs don't end up blue & green!~