And they are 7.

Yesterday, for once in my life, every last thing I did worked out. On schedule, worked well, I was on my best game. Deliveries arrived when scheduled, conference calls ended in record time - it was like the planets aligned, and I was a rock star.

And then, of course, I had to actually pick my children up from school. And what did they do? Walk past my car, and around the other side of campus, forcing me to park and chase them until they finally realized that the crazy lady waving their arms and yelling at them was in fact their mother. (It is fortunate to note here that I was only picking up the boys - if I had been picking up Kate, she would have looked, grimaced, and kept going. Embarrassing the family name and all that.)

Once I actually collected the birthday children, I tried to recover my rock star vibe - the car was loaded with birthday gear, my husband arrived on schedule to help with the festivities, and plenty of kiddos arrived to celebrate. I hadn't asked any one parent to stay, specifically, since I felt certain that some lonely 1st grader would require Momma to hang for the 2 hours.

Not a single parent stayed. For 2 hours, I had sole custody of 38 children.

And no alcohol.

Needless to say, the fact that I had to come home afterwards and deal with dinner, 43 un-iced cupcakes, healthy standardized testing snacks, gymnastics "watch night" and set of unassembled patio furniture killed my rock star buzz. But that was all fine, I had sort of planned it, minus the patio furniture.

But here's where the crow comes in. I think I've confessed my love for cute stationary, so the hand printed favor tags causes no alarm. But the cupcakes? I may have griped about the overachiever mom that uses fancy icing tips. And a pastry bag.

I have caved.
And bought the icing tip & the bag.
And I lurve them.
And iced 43 cupcakes last night with fancy swirls.
And Will said that they looked "perfecto, man."

But I did not wear makeup this morning dropping them off. Or anything monogrammed.

Crow at my house, high noon. Bring a screwdriver for the patio furniture.