Ah, school. Summer school, at that. No, mine is nothing like the summer school they had for the delinquent kids in High School. Nope, mine is college summer school. I actually want to be there. So much, in fact, that I'm paying for it! Woohoo! If you can still breathe after that choking-thick fog of sarcasm, then I applaud you, good sir. Or ma'am. Or laddie. Or whatever it is people call each other these days. This semester (SU12) marks my second-to-last semester until I gain the "Associates Degree" skill level in my English mastery tree. Ok, sorry for the role-playing geekout. Further digression will be avoided. Maybe. I'm a little ADD struck right now. Sleep can wait. Blogs can't.
Balancing the SAHD life with the full-time student gig is not an easy chore, as you can imagine. It equates to fighting at least twelve zombie ninjas without being Chuck Norris. Now THAT is hard! Elizabeth, naturally, couldn't care less about my homework. It seems that she doesn't grasp the concept that it's detrimental to my progress if half of my math homework looks like a giant spit wad. It sends bad vibes to my teacher. Regardless, I do my best to make sure baby gets her necessities.
I did manage to luck out since there have been issues with the babysitter and my wife's car. You're probably thinking "how in the monkey-knuckle farts does that make you lucky? Oh, you're being sarcastic again, aren't you? You know, that doesn't translate well on the internet. You should stop that."
Well, I'm sorry.
Not really.
Anyway, the answer is this: I now have to take my wife to work, which is located about 30 minutes from home in the opposite direction from my school. However, she goes to work much earlier than I have to go to school. This is where the babysitter issue comes into play. She hasn't been able to watch Eliza, so we get to lend her to people that are otherwise ignorant of my schedule. I now get to drop her off when I take my dearly beloved to work. That works out to give me about half-an-hour at home to do everything I couldn't otherwise do whilst keeping an eye on my baby. Clever, ain't it? Feel free to steal that idea to use for your own life-easings.
I know I should be better at multitasking with watching Eliza if I'm to be successful as a SAHD, but I'm not. No explanation. I'm just not good at it. If you were to give me a guitar, I could probably write a song while building a computer and installing a light socket in the basement. But once Eliza walks in the room, it would become a scene straight from a Chuck Jones cartoon. Big mess.
I promised an explanation for missing Wednesday's post. School, of course, is the reason. Taking a 16-week course in half the time with twice the work poses some availability issues. Don't worry. I'll figure it out.
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