Asinine. Or Ass-o-mine.

All that work to find just the right summer camps with the spreadsheet and that whole anal-retentive side of my personality. Yea. That. Well it just blew up in smoke. Miss 6 just completed day two of her play-tennis-all-morning-and-swim-all-afternoon-just-two-minutes-from-our-house and she spent the second day in a row crying and slamming doors from arrival home until bedtime. Hmm. Then camp two called and cancelled. Not enough little kids are interested in playing hoops with the Lady Buffs for only three mornings. Apparently all of the little kids would rather play with them from 9am to 8pm Sunday through Thursday. Huh? (cue record scratch soundtrack)

My Boulder parental colleagues would rather send their very young kids off for almost TWELVE STRAIGHT HOURS of basketball over three, three-hour mornings. Now that I think of it, that’s only four more hours than what we have going. And why have kids if you can’t send them off for as long as possible and call it enrichment. That’s the ticket. With the camp we’re in, we were only warming up. At this rate, by the time school starts again, Miss 6’ll be begging me to go back. I just keep telling myself how much fun she’s having (she is) and that I’m keeping her from hours in front of the television while I frantically try to get work done (I am). But I still don’t think 11 hours of basketball is a good thing when you’re 6. I mean, 7 hours of fun and frolic is already more than our doors and ears can stand.

The downside of my self-righteousness is that…I’m screwed. This schedule change means I only have one more full week of camp before it’s home alone with both kids and a sh**load of work. Let the summer fun begin.

Speaking of Work
I’ve been in premium hell — researching gadgets and gizmos until I’m blue in the face. Then deconstructing documents to re-create brand new ones for clients. This is what you do when you have a big, new project. You scramble and try to look like you haven’t been scrambling at all. Here’s one of the give-away ideas I found: Made in Japan. I think it should go over really well.

Tomorrow I have to drop Miss 6 at camp, feed Beanie, put her to nap, scurry back to the Mac, crank out more documents, answer 100 e-mails, return 50 phone calls, shower, dress, feed Beanie and dress her, pack up supplies and necessary work documents, bring Beanie to my meeting (#101), hand her off to the hubby in the parking lot, and pretend that I am not at all frazzled by the time the meeting starts at 2. Piece of cake. (Too bad Beanie isn’t old enough to hold a basketball or she’d be a shoe-in for the Buffs. Like it or not.)

Now I just need to find a pair of pants that zip. Until I started having all of these damn meetings, I didn’t realize how few of those that I own. I think that is a particular form of cruel punishment — wait until I am so busy I barely have time to breathe and then sucker punch me with “and your pants don’t fit either, fat ass.” How exactly will they ever zip again if I don’t have time to move said ass? And where is that marathon training coming in again exactly…?

Today brought this epiphany: “Did I hold Beanie enough?” Because the baby holding phase seems to be coming to a close – and I think I missed it. Again.

TODAY’S THEME SONG: Margarita. The Traveling Wilburys. Because I could really use one and they finally came out on iTunes. This is the double bonus round, people.