As anyone out there with a family of any size will tell you, routine is key to one’s sanity, and the larger the family, the more critical the schedule. On average, we cling to that concept with tenacity, especially during the hectic work week when the Puddinette and I often have to tag out over the dinner table when I get home from work and she heads to her home office to begin her own workday. There seems like something every night of the week, between conference calls with California, PREP classes at church, Cub Scouts, baths, showers, etc, etc, blah, blah, blah. It’s honestly sometimes difficult to fit in a little Phineas and Ferb before bedtime.

At any rate, faced with a family of four growing children, there can be no real argument that routine is king, and organization will set you free. Unfortunately, the wheels have totally come off the Puddin Family Planner this week, and it’s chaos, bedlam, and pandemonium, all rolled into one around here.

Today was just the tip of this week’s deviation from regularity. In addition to having a Big Project Milestone due at work by Friday which will require much concerted effort, the Puddinette’s company laptop is being replaced over the next three days, which meant boxing it up and making an AM trip to Fedex/Kinko’s for shipment. Following that, I had one of Those Days at the office, the type with the good sort of hectic mixed with a little bit of “Are-You-Freaking-Kidding-Me-Some-People-Should-Have-To-Pass-A-Basic-Awareness-Exam-To-Qualify-For-Walking-Around” interaction. In retrospect, it seems very much as if I arrived at the office this morning, set down my laptop bag, was instantly consumed by a Tasmanian Devil-like whirlwind, and then found it was the hour for the evening commute.

After work, I had just enough time to inhale a plate of the Puddinette’s delightful Sausage and Macaroni and Cheese Crock Pot Concoction and soothe the ruffled feathers of the 16-month old attitude currently inhabiting the body of my youngest child before whisking the Puddinpop away to Cub Scouts. We returned an hour or so later, after learning about area birds and assembling our very own bird feeder. My right eye twitched with the certainty of an impending psychological break, and my wife sat dazed, trying to cope with being disconnected as her trusty conduit online makes its way back to California.

She eventually found refuge in American Idol. I put The Attitude to bed, read the appropriate nighttime stories, tucked in the remainder of our scampering offspring and then sat and stared at a blank wall for half an hour. It wasn’t the best part of my day, but it was close. Afterward, I cracked open my own laptop and began trying to catch up for the day I spent a hostage in the Tasmanian Twist.

Tomorrow I think I might need to go in early; let Puddin’s Pandemonium Parade roll!

pud’n