The other day I told Walden, “It’s your first October!”
I’ve neglected to inform him that each month prior has been his first, mostly because I’ve neglected to understand that there will come a time when the firsts will slow down. But October is just before November, and the planner in me has not neglected to understand that it’s time to think about… the first birthday party!
Being the mom, my role is to ensure that this child feels Very Important on his birthday. Perhaps that new pressure is what made me wake up with a start a few days before my dad’s birthday recently and think “Sh$t! What’s the date, did I miss Dad’s birthday?”
Basically, my life is organized as such:
- The day my husband returns
- The day the dog arrives
The day the baby walksCOMPLETE
- The baby’s birthday party
- The day I deliver delicious, tasty turkey to my American friends to give thanks for our good fortune in being together/not in the U.S. for Thanksgiving
- The day I cook delicious, greasy latkes and reminisce the good ol’ days when I could count on my good Jewish friend’s yummy apple/pear sauce to spare me the trouble
- Whatever comes after that
It seems I’ve subconsciously marked October as the reminder alarm that all of this stuff is coming. Generally speaking, I have no idea of the date. Though somehow (Facebook) I manage to keep track of days of the week to hit up the market here on Wednesdays and Saturdays.
Tomorrow might be Tuesday. What do you do on Tuesdays that helps you know that it’s, well, Tuesday?