That's me. Perhaps I'm not quite as stupid as Ruth Park's children's book character is portrayed. But the name feels apt, as I quite often feel like I muddle through each day, week, and in fact, my whole life, somehow achieving things despite being a master procrastinator. Plus I have the bum to match.

Apparently to some 'outsiders' (a teacher at the girls' school, for example), I look super organised. How I laughed when she told me that. Somehow... SOMEHOW... my kids get to where they are going, on time (usually), dressed neatly and cleanly, and their 'smarts' and general ability must make it appear like I am some sort of super mum. Of course there's one little part of me that takes credit for it all. Realistically, though, it's more good luck than good management. Or perhaps just a good advertisement for chaos theory.

The house is a diabolical mess, and most people would be horrified at the mess I get myself into, particularly in the kitchen.

Today is a shining example of my muddle-headed wombatedness:

I left typing up the netball committee meeting minutes AND the AGM minutes for tonight's meeting till today.

I not only went to bed after midnight last night, but I then started reading a book, and then kept reading till I finished it. Around 3 am.

Alison needed to make a cake for a class fundraising cake stall today, and I was in too much of a mess (and shopping marathoned out), to consider making it last night. Told her to get up early and make it. Which she did, even though, I realised later, it was Caitlin who'd made this particular quick mix Lemon Delicious cake before.
(I left the ingredients and the mixmaster out for her, and she came through, despite giving her and me a minor heart attack AFTER she had put it in the oven over a misunderstanding of what side of the grater she should have used for the lemon zest.)

Kitchen still a mess from other unwashed items that I'd left for 'Ron. (LateR on) Cake making stuff as well = chaos.

Manage to make lunches. Retrieve cake from oven; it sticks a bit, so need to come up with alternative presentation, then take up to school for her.

1pm and I've done the minutes, and have to race off to my swimming squad (bring on those Happy Little Exercise Endorphins!)

I will then need to make up a batch of spaghetti bol. Drive Cait and 2 others to Coffs for 4.30 pm netball training (50 minute return trip.)

Have other two showered and ready to leave within the hour - dropping them and food off at friend's place for babysitting. Take her and me to netball meeting. Pick up all three after meeting (Cait will get lift back to there from training) and get them all to bed, hopefully not too late.

Hopefully achieve all of the above through caffeine and endorphin induced rush.

I could, of course, have prepared some of the spag bol instead of writing this, but where would be the fun in that?