Oh gees... do I have to? Saturdays are so boring! So much of my time is spent mooching around the house and hunting up a nap...
* Get up, get the short people up, and leave the house late for gymnastics.
* Stop at McDonald's on the way for happy meal toys and 'Krabby Patties'. It's tradition. It's also the only thing that gets them out of the house.
* Go to gymnastics. Watch my kids screw around and piss off Joanna and then charm her at the same time. Make polite conversation with the other mothers who are kind but who think I'm a major dorkfish. I've been dealing with different variations of the same parents for 10 years.
* Come home. Usually I'd go to Babetta's, whether or not I'm buying yarn (I'm not--I've given up yarn for Lent. I'm not Catholic--this, again, should tell you something about the size of the stash!) but they're a stop on a local promotion today, so A. They'll be crazy busy and B. Their kid's section will be closed, and I don't want the kids in the way.
* Mooch about & write until I have to take T to his school activity. Make a big crazy-funky loop to check in with the local book store who carries my books to see if I've sold any and then get lunch on the way home. (I sold five books-- Chipotle on me!)
* Get home and nap and catch up with the older kids on some of our shows. And knit. I'm finishing a traveling project I've been working on forever-- a sock-weight hat for a colleague, Mr. Trick, who whines like a mule about wanting a hat for two years. I used the same yarn I used on a hat for the Cave Troll because A. Mr. Trick reminds me of the Cave Troll--for one thing, they both have an inordinate interest in poop. Don't ask. and B. I can safely tell Mr. Trick that the yarn is not virginal since Chicken's cat has humped it several times. This will make Mr. Trick happy. Again, don't ask.
* Try to decide whether or not to take the children with me tomorrow when I watch Mate come in on the 1/2 marathon. The good part of that would be 'yaaaaay!' family day! The bad part would be hauling their baby asses all over old Sacramento. six/one/half-dozen/other--right now I'm leaning to dragging them all over creation, but I REALLY want to be there to watch Mate come in. He's a good Mate... he needs his + sized cheerleader in the stands.
* Realize that the plans Mate made for our 20 year wedding anniversary are in jeopardy because the kids have their yearly gymnastics/dance recital during that weekend. Keep Mate from crapping in the dorkfish tank because he didn't remember that. Try to figure out a solution. Fail. Go walking.
* And here I am, same problems, later time, hoping the little kids spaz down before we have to kill them. I mean that.
And that's a day in my life. Kind of boring, really... I'll try to think of something enlightening to say next time!