getting into the rhythm

Yesterday I screwed up. I promised my friend M. that I would drop by and pick up her son and take him to summer strings, the summer school orchestra program that he and my Teen are taking. There's a concert today, she had an appointment with her daughter yesterday, and she wanted to be sure that her son was at the last rehearsal.

Lately I've been as scatterbrained as a squirrel on meth. It's not that there's so much to do around here in the mothering department ... Teen is playing alot of cello, he requires the same amount of reminding that most 14-year old boys with an obsession for classical music and sports require, the Peeing Cat has been behaving herself, no longer peeing in inappropriate places. MechanicalMan has been especially understanding, never once saying to me, "Say, that greasy ponytail is looking pretty hawt for the 17th day..."

So, frankly it didn't surprise me at all when Teen came out of summer strings yesterday and asked, "Weren't we supposed to pick A. up this morning?"

Holy sh*t. I forgot to pick up my friend's son that morning before class. I completely spaced. Mortified is the only word I could use to describe how I felt.

I was thinking about this, and the reason is ... etsy. My new online shop. It's a hell of alot of work to get a new shop up and running, and I've been spending more than my usual addicted amount of time on the computer and with my digital camera. Taking photos, getting the light right, finding props, backgrounds and settings that will showcase my items perfectly. Then, there's the writing of a shop profile, policies, and the four hours I spent yesterday figuring out all the right postage costs for sending things to Canada, Mexico and Azerbaijan. "One out of four transactions on etsy is an international one."


This morning I think I hit my stride for the first time. I posted new items, updated my facebook fan page, and wrote this post before 9 AM. I can take care of my home life now -- like washing my hair, shaving my legs, and going to my Teen's orchestra concert. Oh, breakfast. I'll eat a little breakfast, too.

And, when we get in the car to go to the concert this morning? I'll have the Teen. I promise. I won't forget him.