Vertigo

Today, I point my camera toward the sky, because I'm afraid to look down. This evening's list will enumerate the things I'm in charge of, even though I don't have a clue what I'm doing. And here I thought competence was one of the benefits of maturity. Not.

1. The Newbie Freak-Out: I have hired a new teacher, and we need to get her started tomorrow night. The only problem is that I have to take the night off tomorrow night, because Sara has a school concert. She'll get to walk into an office full of perfect strangers. I need to remind the staff not to start off by throwing the Screaming Monkey at her. Or putting plastic ants in her supper. No pranks until after coffee-break, please.
2. The All-Girl Freak-Out: Next Tuesday, we will have our first ever Ladies' Night, which (in an effort to deal tactfully with a potentially stigmatizing issue) will be a combination pot-luck, Bingo match, Mary Kay party and seminar about what to do if you a victim of domestic violence. Our local YWCA, in charge of one patch in this crazy quilt, are viewing my idea with some curiosity, but are keeping an open mind. Thing is, if you invite a group of women to leave their co-ed study groups to attend a seminar about domestic abuse, they would never go. 'Cause what would that imply? (Sigh!) If we are putting lipstick on this pig, at least it's Mary Kay lipstick.
3. The Brownie Freak-Out: Also next Tuesday (rapidly shaping up to be an enthralling day), I'm in charge of Sara's Brownie meeting again. Holy Thin Mint, Batman! This time, we are going to do the remaining activities required for the sewing merit badge (or "Try-It", as the Brownies call it). I have to show the girls how to sew on buttons, then supply them with assorted buttons so they can practice. No problem there. I CAN sew on a button. But the other activity is...uh... embroidery. I tried it once when I was 12. At this point I have the floss, the needles and some hoops. Now all I need is expertise. So, I dug a rag out of the rag box, drew a flower on it with a Sharpie, looked at a couple of line diagrams and got to work. The result was a little...lumpy. We who are about to die salute you.
4. The Ranchero Freak-Out: Here's a great idea! My school puts on a selection of fancy, expensive fundraisers; but what about a fundraiser that our clients could attend, thus making a contribution to their school? One of the preschool teachers has suggested a dance! I think that sounds incredibly fun! So, I've offered to help her. Picture it: the big assembly hall at the local Mexican civics center; a couple of local Latin bands; $10 per head; price includes beer; open to anyone who wants to come. Let's squint slightly so we don't have to focus on security concerns, the fact that I don't know jack about putting on a dance, or that my Latin dance skills are a subject of hilarity among my students.
5. And now, for the Ultimate Freak-Out: Sara has presented me with boobs. Actually, just one boob. Sort of. She appeared naked in the living room, looking very pleased with herself and announced that she's GROWING. I shuttered my face against the shock that wanted to appear there. I resisted the urge put my head between my knees. She showed me a very slight convexity on her hitherto sleek 9 year old body, amused by the fact that there is no matching convexity on the other side. I grasped at the lifebuoy of humor and asked her when she was planning to get started on the other one. In the resulting giggles, I was able to suppress my urge to scream. OMG! I was flat as a pancake until I was 12! The last girl in the locker room to get a bra. Contaminated water! Than must be it. It's all the birth control pills that Americans are flushing into the water supply! Or milk! Or meat! You know that scene at the very end of Thelma and Louise? When they grasp hands and drive off the edge of the Grand Canyon? That's Sara and me, the the Caddy is her childhood.