Print edition: 
It's fitting that I was interrupted while writing this column by a call from my husband, who said he just got a voice mail from Jack's teacher, who said the boy forgot his sack lunch for the field trip.
Ooohhh, yeah.
I forgot to write that field trip on the calendar. But even if I had, I'm not sure it would have saved me from rushing to the nearest grocery store and then to Jack's school with that unmistakable symbol of negligent parenting: the Lunchable.
Jack had no qualms with his Chicken Dunks, of course. They come with candy and a Kool-Aid Jammer. He also loves the Maxed Out Deep Dish Pizza, which features "pasteurized processed mozzarella cheese product," but that doesn't make it right.
That Lunchable was just the latest sign of my pathetic organizational skills, which become worse with every layer of crumpled papers on our fridge.
Between ballet schedules, Cub Scout newsletters, field trip forms and dentist reminder cards, I'm awash with appointments and woefully inept at keeping them straight. Add some holiday events to the mix — fun stuff, mind you, but stuff — and I feel like tearing my hair out just to speed up the grooming routine.
Fortunately, my family forgives my shortcomings. Or perhaps they enable me.
The other day, Hannah repeated the date of her orchestra concert for the fourth time and then added, "Don't worry, Mom. I'll remind you that morning."
I've tried all the strategies — digital organizers, purse-sized paper planners, cell phone reminders, lovely leather portfolios, enormous calendars that hang on the wall. Nothing works.
Last week I scheduled lunch with someone, then promptly scheduled an eye appointment at the same time. (I wrote them down on different calendars.) My lunch buddy called from the restaurant as I was in the exam chair, wondering if she had gotten the date wrong.
No, I said. It's me. It's always me.
I didn't get this trait from my parents. Bless their hearts, the folks arrive everywhere on time, if not an hour early, and commit each doctor or dentist appointment to memory.
No, this condition comes straight from the kids. It began during pregnancy, when I once left the refrigerator door open for an entire day (you can blame anything on preggo brain), and has gotten worse.
By the time the kids are driving, I won't remember a single thing, and that's probably best. By then, at least, they can buy their own Lunchables.
