Friday, September 25, 2009

Sally Foster is a Bitch!!!

You know she is. Just say it. Bless her heart.
We LOVE her but everyone in town knows Sally Foster is a bitch!!!

The fundraising. The Sally Foster fundraising for my children's schools.

Okay, okay. It's not even the fundraising that's difficult. It's beautiful paper to benefit our wonderful public schools, where my children attend. The difficulty is getting 3 children out the door, looking neat & clean, having studied and completed homework the night-before, having fed them breakfast, fed the dog and now the fish, and on this particular morning doing all of this without the help of Buford T. --who is happily playing golf in SC. I'm not even bitter about Buford T's whereabouts-- honey, I worked that out a looooong time ago!

This morning was deadline for oldest daughter's fundraising packet. "Mama, just write the check. I've only sold 11 items." Dam-nation, I think. Surely we've sold more than that--but we haven't and I know it. Ugh. "Ok, ok, whatever." Originally, I told my daughters not to expect their father and me to write a check for the fundraising--they could make the effort to sell this stuff. Except now, I'm re-considering. As I evaluate my next move--I'm getting everyone loaded in the car (including my mother who is in town for a weekend-visit). I'm thinking:

Okay. 7 items sucks, I think. That won't even get her a pen-light. It's MY fault. I never even registered her on-line. But is that MY responsibility for a 4th grader? She's just like her Daddy, she's not going to be aggressive in her sales of this fabulous wrapping paper. It's just not important to her but the PARTY is important. So. Do I hold firm? Not today. Not on this issue.....she's already upset because the skirt she wanted to wear this am wasn't ironed and cleaned. My fault. And, we go to public school, I think. We don't pay tuition so what's the big deal with writing a check and just making a donation. I don't want to punish her for my lack of organization. Her friends are important to her. Being included is important to her. I don't want her to feel left-out because I didn't do my part in helping her reach the goal. So I write the check.
And, HAND MY MOTHER A MINT--she has been incessantly coughing since we got in the car. I can barely think because of her coughing. Good grief. "I didn't take my medicine," she says. Hmmm. Our parents are not old. We seem to be entering a new phase, however, where our parents are having 'health issues.' "Are you disgusted with my coughing?" she asks. I must look impatient. "No, Mom. Is it the COPD?" I ask, as patiently as I can. "Yes," she kinda heaves, "don't smoke." Hell--I'd smoke like a steam-engine if it didn't make me feel so bad, I think.
"Yea Mom, I know." She now pulls out her more coughing.

"By the way honey," I say to my oldest, glancing back at her, almost to her school. "If I'm so mean.....I wouldn't be writing this check. But I love you very much. And I'm feeling like I didn't adequately help you achieve the goal for selling wrapping paper, so I'm making a donation." Silence. She told me earler in the morning I was mean--because I disagreed with her about which skirt to wear.

My frustration isn't about the wrapping paper. In fact, I LOVE the stuff--wrap me up and bury me in all those glitzy supplies! Rather, I envision my children's drawers neat and tidy--but they're not. I envision the fundraising packet at the table on the back door, ready for delivery to school, and it wasn't. I see in my mind the home I desire (all the papers from school and artwork neatly filed away) and I even know the calm voices I want to project in the morning. I will do better. I will make a concerted effort not to procrastinate and put-off the small things. I must.

Wait. And give up blogging with you hussies???!!! Doubtful......


  1. Being a firstborn with an overachieving mom Cason sold 92 items! I can't believe I forgot to hit you up! Poor Travis will prob not sell any when it is his turn. I (I mean Cason) better win that damn ipod!

  2. 92!! Can we broker a deal and you sell for us next time. If Cason lived here, he'd be winning the Grand Prize and cruising in a limo....