Tuesday, November 13, 2012

The Early Bird Catches The Car Dancing Mom, Otherwise Known As, I Cannot Win, by Allison

So today was Giant Adventure, otherwise known as Allison Braves Carpool To Take E To Orthodontist.
This may not seem like any sort of noteworthy thing at all, but let me tell you, the carpool deal at the girls' school is like, labyrinth of cars and lanes and you go here if your kid is this age but if siblings are younger go over there and there is pointing and overall, is like conducting orchestra, but of SUVs and backpacks instead of instruments.

Well, some instruments. E had her violin.

But I am always like bumbling idiot, "Wha? I go where?" and just follow the people in authority pointing me this way or that.
(Note: This is one of the reasons the girls ride the bus in the morning. The primary reason is, there are only so many times you can get pulled for speeding and "I like this song" is not good defense (Subnote: Tip from me: If A Tribe Called Quest's "Scenario" comes on the radio, pull over, it makes you drive fast) and "We are totally late for school" is not a valid defense, and it is super stressful and the girls are so not on my team on the getting themselves clothed and shod and in the car in time.)

But if the bus driver is there, they shoot out of the house right away.
Little traitors.
But, get this: I am proud parent of three girls who have NEVER been tardy. They keep track of that at school.
Another reason the bus is awesome.
Plus I am not sure if you can blog from jail, and I would not remain on the loose if nonstop shuttling of screeching feral cat children was a daily thing for me.

Anyway, the girls mostly have after school orchestra or drama or chess or such and hardcore afterschool pickup can be avoided, to the delight of me and all of the known world. 

But on various days, the totally intricate, mysterious carpool must be confronted, and today was one of those days.
And it was with E, known clock watcher, time observer, "you are late, where are your keys, did you lose your purse, are we lost, can I wear shorts, I need my umbrella" kid.

So I was all, ha. I will show her. I will be early.

(I realize this is not me winning a battle so much as it is me doing the thing I am supposed to do as the mother of E, but she and I are in constant chess game of sorts, rules change a lot, scenarios can be altered, but we are on our toes, pens and paper in hand, Extreme Communicating will be on the agenda)

And I WAS early.
Ha HA!

And I got in the kind of lane where you can see the cars from the spot where she is assigned to stand, so I get credit for the early!

(Note: I was fearful I would be early but stuck back in line and unobserved and my early earliness would garner no goodwill or whatever it is in chess, let's say I am Queen) because she saw me. Ten points for Gryffindor, I was acknowledged for my earliness.

Know how I know she saw me?
Because when she got into the car, E was all "MOOOM. Everybody could see you car dancing."

And I am all "Yes? And?"

I mean, half these people saw me stage a flash mob at a swim banquet, they know I am a car dancer too at this point.

And in my defense, (Note: Not that I NEED a defense, since car dancing is not a crime )
(Which? Is that a T shirt yet? Because I am totally trademarking it and making it a thing)
(Subnote: is not a crime unless you are speeding, even with "Scenario" plea) but I digress, the first song as I sat in line, EARLY, was The Black Key's "Little Black Submarine."

Which is fab song. Like totally, super good, I heart it, it is fantastic.

It is if The Beatle's "Hey Jude" and Led Zepplin "Stairway To Heaven" had a baby and named it AWESOME. So car dancing mandatory, plus I was just sitting there in line, so Extreme Car Dancing opportunity.

And then, since I was so EARLY, Of Monsters and Men's "Little Talks" follows.
And I have a whole thing worked out to this song by now, I duet with myself, the left side is the boy part and then I turn my head and the right side is the girl part. And I go nuts dancing with the trumpets. 

And then the line moves, I am signaled this way and that, I get E, her violin, her diorama from book report, backpack, and we are off to orthodontist.

EARLY. Did I mention that?

And Mature Parenting Plan goes out the window and I am all "E? Did you see how early I was? Super early. Like, possibly ahead of Mrs. S. "

But my earliness is ignored and instead the focus is on  the car dancing and how it was embarrassing, and since this is old news to me, bor-ing, I am like "I was early. That means, more car dancing while I wait. You pick your poison."

She is all, ug, fine, but can we listen to One Direction?
And far be it from me to interfere with a boy band obsession, I am so glass house throwing no stones on that one.
As I am currently reading the biography of one Mr. John Taylor, bassist of my youthful obsessive band thing, not calling kettles any color at all.

So we trot along, did I mention EARLY, to the orthodontist, and E starts getting nervous. Normally this is where she is all "Are we late?" or "Are we lost?" or "Call Dad or Mrs. S."
But I am like, E, we are so cool, we are fifteen minutes early. I am Awesome Mom.

And I am not lying, she says, "We can't be that early. That is embarrassing. We have to sit in the car for seven minutes before we go in."


This is a new completely insane E behavior, and I am flummoxed. I check the backseat, it is E, the time watcher, the town crier, the weather reporter, the one who tells on me.
We are too early?
What in the world?

But apparently in E World, you have to be early, but not too early.

There is a zone of sorts.

And I am all, "E, you are impossible. I scrambled to be early and now we have to sit in the car for seven minutes? Which by the way I am totally putting my music back on, but I thought early was your thing? You like early, right? Now I have to be early but not too early, I do not even process that, don't make me do math."

And she says, "You know I am hard to please."

Good grief.

I am half about to throw something at her, or write a document (Which?  I guess is what I am currently doing, so there, E, take THAT), and half cracking up because the logic of: 
Not too early but still early but just kind of early but not late makes some sense to me theoretically, in a demanding, bossy, unattainable goal-setting kind of way. That is not one of my particular ridiculous demanding unattainable requests, but I know one when I see one.

So I say to the world, behold E. She is completely awesome. According to her recent teacher conference, she is a prolific writer! (How about that?)
Only problem is writing so much and cramming a lot into run on sentences. This is a problem why?

E is hysterical, intuitive, and her chess move at the orthodontist was to shake up the Mom Must Be Early rule, to some nebulous thing I will never get right.


I'll see that hand (yes, I know you don't play poker in chess, but I don't know the right metaphor for what I am trying to say in chess terms and V and Matt aren't here), and raise her five car dancings with the windows down, and a dance-off at Girl Scouts.

Pas de deux of nonsense, courtesy of E and me.