Unprepared

That's my middle name for today.

Did you know there was a hurricane headed my way this weekend? I vaguely remember hearing something about it a couple of days ago, but there's ALWAYS a hurricane headed this way during the fall. We live on the coast; it's inevitable. Apparently, Miss Irene is a pretty big deal though... like Gloria status. I remember Hurricane Gloria very well. It was 1985. I was 8-years-old. We taped all of the windows with big X's, lost power, listened about the storm on our little transistor radio, and went outside during the eye to assess the damage (we lost our plum tree).

So what do we have in our fridge? About 4 oz of water. Yes, seriously. We never have that little water in the fridge. Go figure we'd run out right before this damn thing.

So Harry went to the store yesterday, and they were almost completely out of water. He managed to get 4 litres and a shload of batteries. Huzzah.

I'm going to hit the store on my break, and hopefully we'll be able to score a few more gallons. If not, I'm just going to buy containers and fill them with tap. I drink it all the time anyway. We also need tape for the windows. How do we not have tape? What is wrong with us?

The main reason I am so ill-prepared for this is because this is Ellie's last day of Pre-K. And she's starting kindergarten next week.

Next WEEK.

Holy crap. I've managed to get all of her paperwork done, and she's got all the supplies she needs. We bought new clothes last month while on vay cay. So while it sounds like I'm prepared, it's the me-inside that's not. I'm starting to freak. Pick-up, drop-off... will she be able to get to her classroom herself after the first few days? Will she remember her backpack and lunchbox and folder and homework all by herself? All of a sudden, my little 4-year-old has a lot of responsibility to shoulder. While Pre-K has prepared her for the likes of homework and such, Mommy and Daddy are the ones who remember to tote everything back and forth between home and her cubby. This is all on her now.

I feel helpless.

I'm now just supposed to drop her off and walk away. No more placing everything in her cubby myself. No more last minute hugs and kisses and  "Mommy, will you stay with me for a few minutes?"

Why am I freaking myself out even more now?

Stupid hurricane. Stupid kindergarten. Stupid growing up.

Yes, Ellie, Mommy said a bad word. Mommy said stupid. Three times.

Stupid is the only bad word Ellie knows (and does not use except to point out every single time she hears it). Heh heh.

I think Mommy needs a valium.