This weekend is going to be nuts!

Okay, so check it out. It’s Palm Sunday, which means that our church choir is doing its cantata on Sunday for both services (I guess Easter Sunday’s service is packed too full to accommodate it? I never asked), with dress rehearsal Saturday morning. Saturday night is also when Gabe’s preschool is doing a movie night, which we wanted to attend. Finally, it’s the Midwest Gaming Classic weekend, which Eric missed last year and which he was really hoping to attend this year, particularly as a friend will be traveling up to compete in it. There are also a couple of other events I had thought about attending (a friend’s school’s carnival; a craft night to which I was invited), but I don’t know whether they’ll fit in. Oh, and Sam now has two papers (a book report and a position paper on solar energy) due on Wednesday, so he’ll need time to work on those.*

At least it’s a running step-back week, so I won’t be running for huge amounts of time either day.

I think we’re going to have to split up for parts, with Eric attending the Classic while I take the boys to the movie night. The alternative means running around wildly and crossing fingers that nothing crops up. Of course, we don’t have to attend anything except the choir rehearsals and the performances; nothing else has received our official commitment yet. I think I’ll avoid telling the boys about most of the events; that way, if we have to skip something in the interest of sanity, they won’t be too disappointed.

*I am really not looking forward to shepherding Sam through these. He’s not good about accepting help graciously, but he also gets horribly intimidated by what he perceives as large amounts of work. Either I leave him to his own devices and listen to him complain at the top of his lungs while avoiding putting actual pencil to paper, or else I sit with him and have to repeatedly ask him to quit abusing me and my good graces. What usually happens is an alternation of the two, with me getting up and leaving each time he gets toxic because I’m not doing the work for him, then returning when he panics, apologizes, and freaks out over the whole thing. (I don’t immediately return, mind you; I’m not trying to perpetuate the cycle.) It’s miserable all around.