Week 60: 1971 Pontiac Firebird Formula

Daddy's Tiny Cars returns to a Daddy favorite, the Pontiac Firebird, but, lest you think I'm duplicating cars again, I assure you this is a 2010 Matchbox 1971 Pontiac Firebird Formula, different than Week 32's Hot Wheels 1967 Pontiac Firebird 400.  I'm keeping track.

Which is a bit more than I've managed with the schedules in my house these past few weeks. Lately getting a grip on a complete schedule has felt like a music montage from an old Scooby Doo cartoon where Scooby runs through a door in a hallway of doors, after which the monster runs out of another, crosses the hall and goes through another, only to have Velma pop out of the door next to it, and so on and so on. Those chases usually end up in a big pileup.

So far, the metaphor continues to hold.

My wife uses a Google calendar app to track things, with different color coded shadings. Last week, that calendar looked like a mosaic, a type of scheduling arts and crafts.

Scheduling itself, however, isn't that difficult. The challenge is the kid coordination component. Doctor appointments mean kids go with the non-doctor-visiting parent, but if an appointment is near the pickup for preschool/play practice/activity time/free FunTime event, than doctor-visiting parent may do a pickup.

Rangling a two-year-old for a small errand is a hassle, so non-drive-through errands (how we do love drive-throughs) may be better served with a mid-run kid drop off. All three kids require transport by the van, and currently I do not have a baby seat in the car, so that vehicle is only being used for older kid transport. Don't forget to make lunch in there somewhere, and early play practice for my older son requires early dinner time, so best to not have late lunches on those days.

In one door, out another, all the while making that zoopity zippity zoom noise as we stand still for a few seconds and our feet spin around creating an illusion of a perfect circle.

But for all the scheduling needs, I still have not come to embrace my nemesis: the cell phone calendar alarm. My wife's phone gives auditory reminders for everything -- for example, it blares the chorus of Simple Minds' Don't You Forget About Me when time to pick up Racer A from school.  Those alarms always go off when my wife has stepped outside the house, closed the bathroom door, or answered a call on the other line. I am powerless to stop their repeated taunting, and I am certain her phone would deliver a near-fatal electric jolt to me if I attempted to interfere.

Nonetheless, things should slow, at least temporarily, as the numerous Halloween festivities are over, kid costumes are done for another year, my older son is completing his grueling play practice schedule as his local production of The Pirates of Penzance prepares to open next week, and a number of necessary adult appointments have been checked off the list.

As for my scheduling for the past few weeks -- I really would have gotten away with it if it hadn't been for those meddling kids.

Picture of this week's Matchbox 1971 Pontiac Firebird as well as Week 32's 1967 Pontiac Firebird 400 courtesy of Phil Pekarcik.