Another Mom Fail and Other Assorted Kvetching

I was sitting in my son’s 7th grade award’s assembly when I got the phone call.

“Um . . . Jo-Lynne . . . I think you forgot . . .”

Once again, another Mom Fail moment has left me feeling irked and demoralized. I feel like I can never get it right, no matter how hard I try. I am either late to arrive, or I forget to go, or I write the time down wrong, or I forget to pick something up at the store, or I forget to send whatever I bought at the store to the classroom . . . but today I took the Mom Fail to a whole new level.

I actually remembered to buy the water bottles for the class party, and I even wrote it down on my calendar so I’d remember to send them in, but I wrote down to send them in on the wrong day. Of course the wrong day being 2 days late (cuz it would have been too convenient to send them in two days early!)

I. Give. Up.

I console myself only with the fact that I was supposed to bring water, not something fun like cupcakes or something essential like plates and napkins.

(Note to self. Send plates and napkins with child #2 on WEDNESDAY.)

As an aside, I think the reason I wrote it down wrong on my calendar was because I  was sending something with child #2 on Wednesday so when I agreed to send something with child #3, I assumed their end-of-year class parties were on the same day.

I’m telling you, I can’t win. I don’t know why I bother volunteering to do anything. I think I’m more trouble than I’m worth.

Yeah, Mom, I know, that is “bad self talk” but honestly, how can a 40-year-old grown woman with three kids be so irresponsible?

And as if I’m not feeling sorry for myself enough already . . . I spent the entire weekend laid up. (Not that I can use that as an excuse for getting the day of the class party wrong. That was just a stupid mistake, plain and simple. But it still adds fuel to the fire.)

I had a brief reprieve from my dental woes after my last root canal back in April, where I had horrible pain resulting from my bite not being right and had to go back two times before it was corrected. And because I live in the boonies, I had to drive 30 minutes each way to get those 5-minute adjustments. Color me annoyed.

Finally that tooth had settled down and I was just about to go back in to have that temporary cap replaced when the tooth pain started up again — on the Friday evening of Memorial Day Weekend, no less. So I spent that entire weekend in pain.

Come to find out when I got to the dentist on the following Tuesday, it was actually the tooth beside the original root-canalled tooth (canal is now a verb; I hereby declare it) that was acting up. Good times!

So. I made an appointment to have a 2nd root canal, but before I could get to it, I started in with excrutiating pain — worse, even, than it was over Memorial Day weekend.

It was so bad that I ended up alternating Percocet and Ibuprofen for the last 2 days, basically sleeping and reading books to try and keep my mind off the pain (want a good summer read? I have several to recommend) and in the process, losing an entire weekend of my half marathon training that I was sadistically looking forward to. I also missed my son’s baseball game and my daughter’s choir performance.

Woe is me . . .

I can honestly not imagine how people with chronic pain or illnesses keep their sanity.

This morning, bright and early, I called up my friendly endodontist (yes, I call him mine; after 3 root canals in this office, I have added him to my speed dial and probably bought his summer home at the shore) and pretty much demanded an emergency root canal, which he graciously provided.

I always chuckle in a jaded sort of way when I walk in and they ask how I’m doing — as if I’d be there if I were feeling hunky dory.

So after another excruciating hour in his vinyl recliner chair, here I am, home again, home again, jiggity-jig, with another dead tooth (hopefully) and another temporary filling.

But, naturally, my bite feels high. Only time will tell if it is going to cause me undue pain and distress or not, but I am not feeling overly optimistic. I have a sinking feeling I will be taking more Ibuprofen tonight and will be schlepping back to my friendly endodontist again tomorrow. In fact, right now I’m pretty sure I’m doomed to an eternity of regular dental visits.

And while I’m complaining. Have I mentioned that my plantar fasciitis is acting up again and I’ve been seeing a chiropractor 2-3 times a week for that?

It’s a good thing work is slow right now because I feel like I am never home.

I realize these are first world problems. I am so thankful that it’s nothing serious, but being in constant pain for weeks on end doesn’t do much for one’s good humor.

In more pleasant news, my son received an award today for excellence in band. It’s a character acknowledgement as much as a performance-based award, so we’re pretty proud of him. I guess I must not totally stink as a mom. Maybe by some miraculous feat, they will all three inherit their father’s responsible nature and not end up a space cadet like me.