Let it Snow! ... but, please, not until we have our tree

Last Sunday, just like every Sunday, I prepared the calendar for the week. Its a simple task: Sunday nights are planning night. Open my Planner, transfer my plans to the Family Planner that hangs on the fridge, add the usual events like "drop off 9 am" and "Pick-up noon." Next, I select the menu for the week, assign a meal to each night, and compile the grocery list. Finally finishing my plans by ordering groceries for delivery on Monday.

So, last Sunday, as I listed and described the plans, I noticed December upon us. We'd given our Thanks, were scheduled to celebrate Santa's arrival at the West Chester Parade, so lets really make it December. Lets get a tree--early this year. Which is why I drew a tree and wrote "Get Christmas Tree" on the calendar for Saturday morning. Early, we planned, early enough to make it back in time for Wes' swim class.

Early Monday morning, as with all Monday mornings, Carson hurried to the calendar to learn what the week would bring. "Tree? Christmas Tree? Hey! We're getting our tree on Saturday!" And the excitment began. With the cold weather predictions upon us, we bundled up for the parade, and prepared ourselves for our very important morning.

Until Carson was up all night.

Screaming.

Screaming.

Screaming.

That's right. Ear infection. Totally out of nowhere. Suddenly our very important appointment at the tree farm has been replaced by an even more important appointment with the pediatrician. Except, to Carson and Wesley, a date with the pediatrician just doesn't measure up to treking through the dark forest to find that special tree.

Of course, a last minute change doesn't make it to the family planner. And now a very concerned and confused Carson just noticed that we didn't get a tree. And we were supposed to get a tree.

And here we are preparing for an early morning of tree shopping, with the goal to be back before pilates.

And in front of us? The local news. Announcing snow for tomorrow.