The above could be a life-changer…
Hi everyone. I think it’s time I came out of the junk closet, and admitted something to you.
It’s not going to be pretty nor savory. Not neat nor clean.
Instead, it’s disgusting. Absolutely a blight on my person.
Please gird your brains for what I’m about to say…
And…..
Here it is:
I’m…
a steaming hot mess of epic lavanic* proportions.
Like if a volcano were a mom.
But I’d be a hotter messier mess than a volcano.
Surprised?
You thought I had it all together, didn’t you? A real steel trap of organization. I guess I can understand. I mean, when you read this blog, I sound all kinds of not-hot-messdness, don’t I? Perhaps when you think of me, you see an ice cube or cucumber. Maybe even the continent of Antarctica.
Well here’s the thing: I forget everything. I accidentally blew off several volunteer visits to my daughter’s classroom, and when her teacher thanked volunteers with holiday cookies, I told her I didn’t deserve them and she said, “Well I have high hopes for next year.”
Also, I make plans and don’t write them down. Ever. I have no calendar. I am alerted to most things I’m supposed to do by a pissed off phone call from whoever I’m supposed to do the thing with after the thing has passed.
Let’s back track. I suppose I’m overstating a bit. I DO have a calendar of sorts.
Here she is:
That’s Lori on the right. See how I’m resting my head gratefully on her shoulder? That’s because everything I ever show up on time for or show up to at all is thanks to her.
My husband affectionally refers to her as my “hard drive.”
This is how it works:
Lori receives a panicked phone call at 11:23PM. She notes it’s me, picks up, and says, “San Diego Momma’s hard drive…”
Me: Is there something going on tomorrow that I’m forgetting?
Lori: You mean the surprise party you planned for your husband where you’re expecting 78 people at 5?
Me: Cripes! That’s it! I need to buy a cake!
Lori: I did it for you.
Me: I need to invite people!
Lori: Done.
Me: I have to clean the house!
Lori: I’ll be there in the morning with Lysol, you moron.
So it works like that.
You may see the problem.
If something happens to Lori, I’m totally screwed.
Which is why I signed on to be a “mombassador” for Find and Remind. If you do know me even a little, you’re aware that I don’t agree to endorse things wily nily. I think carefully about it, and usually don’t do product reviews at all. But if someone/thing offers to fix my life, Lori and I are listening.
Because let’s face it: Lori’s not getting any younger. Her memory could go any day now.
I need a back-up hard drive.
Check out Find and Remind here. There’s a Command Center, To-Do lists, Calendar (that automatically updates to iCal, Outlook, and Google), and more. Also, it lets you arrange any group activity from playdates to fundraisers. I think of it almost as a Google Group but with more functionality and tools geared for parents.
This post was sponsored. I think. I’ll have to ask Lori.
*Lavanic is a made-up word used to denote dopey morons who can’t get it together.
Indigo says
Holy cow, I live with the male version of you. I hand him a note with everything he needs to do before he heads out the door EVERY single day. (Hugs)Indigo
Kim says
I love this, because my best friend does the exact same thing for me…especially in the history department :) What was the name of that place we went to for Spring Break? Why did I break up with that guy in college again? Who did I forget to send a Chanukah card to last year? Yes, those special friends are irreplaceable, but the other half of the partnership must have some redeeming qualities too ;) Right? Right??!
Galit Breen says
Nice, Deb! Love this!
{Also? Hee! Gotta love the hard drive!}
Trish says
I need a Lori. Where’d you find her?
San Diego Momma says
Lori is mine. No one come near her.
Crystal says
Ooooooh….another techy software for me to try and never use. LOL :)
LORI says
Deb – I LOVE YOU BFF
I don’t know what I would ever do without you!!! Thank you for your friendship.
xoxo