Disaster Control

Today was Connor's last day of kindergarten. We did it. We survived the whole year with only a few minor disasters.

I have never proclaimed to be the most organized person. My idea of "filing and sorting" is taking the papers out of his backpack (the morning of his next school day) and placing them on the growing stack by the microwave. Every so often I would sift through the mess hoping to unearth monthly calendars and that pesky list of field trips I was sure I had seen a couple months ago.

Which could be why I received this phone call last week on Thursday morning. I had just crawled back into bed after seeing Connor out the door and was enjoying a nice morning chat with my BFF when my other line beeped. "Can you hang on a sec? My line's beeping and it's probably Chad."

"Sure."

I switched lines.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Shauna, it's Mrs. T from Connor's school phoning." I started to panic. My biggest fear was that some person would snatch Connor on his way to school during the fifteen seconds he's out of my sight. My overactive imagination went out of control and I barely managed to contain the urge to scream, sure she was about to tell me Connor had never arrived that morning. "Today is our day to take the kids to the park. I'm sure you saw the note. Connor needs a swimsuit, towel, sunscreen, hat, lunch and snack. You probably just forgot."

"Uh....note? I didn't get a note."

"We sent it home some time ago."

Ahhhhh, that would be the missing paper I couldn't find. In true Shauna style I replied, "Oh, that note. Yeah, I lost it."

"Oh." Big awkward silence. "Would you be able to come down right now and bring Connor's things. He's quite concerned that he's the only one who doesn't have his stuff."

Ouch. "Absolutely," I said oh-so-calmly while jumping out of bed and reaching for a pair of pants. "What time are you leaving?"

"Nine o'clock."

A quick glance at the clock showed it was 8:48. I threw on a shirt, brushed my teeth, ran my fingers through my hair and yelled at Benen to "get in the van NOW!"

I ran to Connor's room and yanked open the dresser drawer to find...nothing. No swimsuit and no shorts. I rushed to the laundry sorter and began doing the pull-and-sniff looking for his swimsuit which I assumed was at the bottom. No luck. In the dryer I found a pair of board shorts and decided they would do.

Towel. No clean towels. I ran upstairs and downstairs looking through laundry baskets and in every room of our house. Finally, I found an old, but clean, towel sitting on the stacking stools and I grabbed it and stuffed it in a bag. I threw in sunscreen and a hat and again yelled, "GET IN THE VAN! NOW!"

I slipped on my sandals, grabbed Kolten, who was wearing a pajama shirt and diaper and rushed out the door.

At the van, I yanked open the door and stopped. There was no car seat for Kolten. I had forgotten that I had taken it out and given it to my aunt who is due to have her baby soon. It was my spare and I had not yet put Kolten's seat in the car. Well, there was no time, so I ran around the other side and strapped him into Connor's booster seat. He was completely delighted. I believe his exact words were, "Whoa-ho-ho-ho." I put the van in gear and ignored the school zone limit during my mad dash. After all, the kids were all in school, right? And this was an emergency.

I made it. The kids were lined up at the classroom door, ready to head for the bus. I jammed the plastic bag in Connor's backpack, gave him a hug and a kiss, and apologized profusely for forgetting.

Mission accomplished. Phew.

I'm not sure how I'm gonna do this everyday next year.