car-man and the calendar

I love Car-man. Really. Deeply.

But the man cannot keep track of the calendar.

At 6:45 last night, while I was working late, my phone dinged. I looked at it. Eldest has flute in 15 minutes. Ah yes. No worries. It's on the calendar at home.

Wait. Back up. Better call and check. So I did. He'd forgotten. Flute has been at 7 p.m. on Monday for something like . . . oh, say a YEAR?

Sigh. It's ok. He got her there.

And, in his defense, he was wading through paperwork for me. But it's not like this is the first time. He just never thinks to check the calendar. Even though it's right there on the front of the refrigerator stating "Eldest--Flute 7". Pretty simple, really.

This also brought up my feelings of inadequacy because I was at work. I wasn't at home being a good mommy, driving my kids to their activities. Damn that feeling. I know it's stoopid. I know he's capable of driving them to their activities. But it still gets under my skin because somehow, I think it's my fault.

So really, this isn't about Car-man. It's about me.