The lack of balance continued through a considerable portion of the weekend. It was enhanced by a schedule which included the following:
Friday night: Baseball game in a distant location for Isaac, Sweet Sixteen party in opposite direction for a friend of Calypso's, Bridal shower for a friend of mine somewhere in between the two.
Saturday: Mr. Lime departing early to work on a deck he is building for a friend. I forgot about this, which led to me not setting my alarm clock, which in turn led to me being jangled into consciousness 15 minutes before Isaac's baseball game that morning. Here's how the call went.
Lime blissfully slumbering between her high thread count tie dyed sheets as she dreams of Hugh Jackman is suddenly rattled when the phone rings. She regards the called ID and notices her son's name. In a state of mild disorientation she wonders if this is him having an emergency or being too lazy to come knock on the door so she answers to hear, "Hello, is Isaac there?" disorientation is magnified considerably as she double checks caller ID during a moment of extreme existential crisis and responds with her froggy, morning voice (Hugh certainly would have it found husky and alluring but the caller seems to react less assuredly), "Uh...no...Isaac?" The caller tentatively inquires, "Michelle?" Since I have been awake for 10 seconds and I am still struggling to determine why my son is calling me to talk to himself and addressing me by my first name confusion increases but I respond affirmatively at which point the caller begins to laugh as he identifies himself as the gentleman who brought Isaac home last night. He further explains that my boy left his phone behind accidentally and since we are clearing up a few matters he was wondering if my son might be intending to join his team for the game which will commence shortly. Suddenly the dawn of understanding cracks with great clarity over my skull and I nearly kill myself trying to get out of bed to accomplish the heroic feat of getting myself dressed and the still sleeping catcher awake, dressed, and deposited behind home plate in time for the first pitch in the next 15 minutes. May I remind the reading public, I am NOT a morning person in even the loosest sense of the word. I'm not a crank, I am just very slow moving. May I also tell you, Isaac moves even slower than I do. The boy fall asleep in his morning shower. It is understood in this house that Isaac's shoes alone require ten full minutes of concentration on his part.
Dear reader, this morning mayhem would prove to be among the most relaxed moments of the day, which went on to involve several other last minute schedule changes (including the employer of one teen letting us know she required the services of said teen but she'd let us know when....we got 15 minutes notice...you'll excuse me if I don't jump for joy and hurry myself to accommodate that) thrown at me from all directions and three teens demanding they all have answers NOW and being taken where they NEEDED to be NOW even though several bits of information were missing that I needed in order to formulate some sort of a workable plan. Demands and tension mounted exponentially until I was given the necessary information, came up with a plan, delivered its details, began to execute it and 3 people decided to shoot it into orbit. I announced, "THIS WAS THE PLAN AND YOU CAN GO WITH IT OR STAY WHERE YOU ARE AND GO NOWHERE!" Then I sat in the car alone and engaged in a bit of primal scream therapy before 2 limelets decided to join the plan and 1 opted out.
Thus one little limelet went to work, one little limelet went to a graduation party, one little limelet stayed home, one mother of limelets cried, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!" all the way there.
Sunday: One part of the schedule was cancelled, mercifully. Another part was reorganized and I had to run the mom taxi 3 times instead of 6.
If you'll all excuse me I think I will go to bed now.