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A racket’s length away from sanity.

I know I’ve been neglecting my readers and blog followers lately and for this I apologize.  This is the time of year where I pull my hair out and wonder “why I do this to myself?”  As I’ve probably mentioned before I’m a tennis playing momma.  But you see, I can’t just play, I have to manage it all too.  I’m the captain of a local women’s tennis team.  Which means twice a year I get to organize somewhere between 12 to 16 different ladies and 12 to 16 different ladies schedules, injuries, issues with each other, sensitivities, and their self esteems.  And its all crammed into about 2 to 3 weeks worth of work.  After I get their vacation schedules matched up to the tennis schedules and figure out if I’m going to even have enough players on a given day, then I get to figure out if I have someone left over to sub just in case a lady forgot to tell me they had been planning to go to France for the past year for a quick weekend.   Then there are the practices that I have to organize which has its own set of rules.  First, figure out who wants to play. Second, get up at the butt crack of dawn to make sure I have enough courts to accommodate all the players.  Then there is always someone who bails out, because “it’s only practice” which, if you’ve ever played tennis you’ll understand, you need an even number of players to have a game.  Singles or doubles but there really isn’t any triplet tennis.  There are a few drill type games you can play with three players but it’s not really a good “practice” unless it’s practicing how to beat your head against the wall if your the organizer.

On top of organizing the team matches and the practices I’ve also been trying to get out on the court once in a while to practice what I preach, and let off some steam and some baby weight.  I’m also a member of another team on a higher skill level which has its own set of practices.  But, thank GODDESS, all I have to do is show up for that one and hit the snot out of some tennis balls.  

All this and I still have a teething, feisty, headstrong, crawling 8 month old, a husband, and a house for sale that I’m managing.  EJ keeps me on my toes, Dear Hubby keeps me somewhere between sanity and insanity, and the house I don’t even want to go into but you I have to.  Just so you know my pain.  If you’ve ever had a house on the market you know the drill.  Phone rings!  OH CRAP! Someone wants to look at the house in an hour!  Which means 30 minutes to get ready and get out because they always show up early. Hurry! Hurry!  Stuff the dirty dishes into the cabinets!  We’ll just wash em’ all later.  Vaccum up the dog hair!  FEBREZE, FEBREZE, FEBREZE!! Everywhere!!! I swear I’m going to find all our dirty clothes and shoes and whatnots one day.  I just keep stuffing them all in any available hiding spot.  And I’m too panicked at the time to remember where I put everything.  

I hope this explains why I’ve been a little off line lately.  One day I’ll find time to find everything including my underwear.  I know I put them somewhere??????

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