Who Stole My Pants?

Sharing is caring!

I’m seriously losing my mind.  Last night was an epic example of when the stress and strain of moving to a new area finally takes it’s toll.  Short version:  I am convinced someone broke into my parents house and took 2 very specific items:  Luke and Seth’s pants.  Because that is the only thing that makes sense at this point.

Let’s back track a bit.  It’s a little early for Sum It Up Sunday, but how about a Flashback Friday?  As in… let’s flashback to 2 weeks ago when I brought the kids out to Arizona to check out schools.  First of all, I’m a huge fan of the public school system.  I was raised public schools and planned on sending my kids there as well.  And choosing a neighborhood to move to always revolved around which school my children would be attending.  Always.

Welllll… that didn’t happen here.  We decided we needed to move to our current location as soon as possible.  The greater family dynamic played into this need, and I am certain it was the right one.  But we weren’t equipped to pick a house or neighborhood just yet.  And we aren’t willing to make the kids change schools more than once if at all possible.

And homeschooling?  Bahahahahahaaahhhaaaaaaa… oh… sorry, I just can’t stop laughing over that one.  I love love love homeschooling in theory.  The homeschooling mamas I know ROCK MY WORLD.  But *I* would be a mega disaster as a homeschooling mom.  Like of epic proportions.  Unless it was socially acceptable to teach classes about Facebook, Twitter, and blogging (all while we are visiting Disney), I think homeschooling just won’t happen here.

So we were a little bit stuck on what to do.  We decided to explore the charter and private school options simply because they were not tied to a specific address or neighborhood.  We could move immediately to a temporary situation, and then make a permanent move anywhere in the city later.  My children could attend the same school when this happened.  Made the most sense to us, so we rolled with it.  We visited and fell in love with 2 of the 3 schools and ultimately chose the private Catholic school.

One of the things that appealed to me as a mom in making this decision:  uniforms.  All three school options required uniforms and I was probably a little too giddy about this.  No more fights over what to wear in the morning.  No more drama over the latest shirt need from Justice.  No more pouting that the Nike t-shirt hadn’t been cleaned.  Sweet.  My kids, of course, were not really fans of the whole uniform idea. 

But me?  I was lovin’ it.  My life just became so much easier.

I was so smug, so smart. I ordered uniforms early last week.  Yep.  Haven’t arrived yet.  No worries, I went to school on Tuesday and picked up multiple pairs of pants, shorts and shirts for EACH child.  I was completely on top of this uniform thing and it was smooth sailing.   Bonus, this week the kids were allowed to wear pretty much whatever they wanted due to celebrating Catholic Schools Week.  Except for Friday.  On Friday they needed to wear the required uniform for mass.

There’s an ugly side of school uniforms that no one warns you about.  I know some of you are already laughing at me.  Yep.  It happened.  The FIRST WEEK.

It’s the sheer panic that sets in when you cannot find the item they MUST wear for school the next day.  At our public school, if that Nike shirt wasn’t cleaned, I’d simply tell the child to get the heck over it and choose a DIFFERENT Nike shirt from their closet.  This is not an option with uniforms.

So this happened last night to me.  I went to lay out the new clothes the kids needed for school.  Claire’s uniform is a jumper and shirt (with shorts for modesty underneath- gotta love the parochial school rules!) and I found these items quickly as any good mother should.  When it came to the boys, I easily found the shirts where I left them.  On a hanger in the closet they are sharing.  Yay for organization!

Onto the stack of shorts and long pants.  I quickly go through them and discover:  no long pants.  Not a single pair for the boys existed in the pile.  Hmmm… ok, maybe I moved them over here to this stack of clean clothes waiting to be put away.

Nope.  Not there.  Well, how about the dryer?  Did I just leave them in there over night?  Nope.  I did not.

Y’all, I turned this house upside down looking for those dang pants that I KNOW were sitting in the pile of clean uniforms.  They were there.  I know they were.  The whole family pitched in:  we looked in every drawer, every suitcase, every closet, every backpack, every car and even every refrigerator (I was desperate, and we have 3 a the house right now, so who knew?  Could of been there… they weren’t).

Image courtesy of Ambro/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Mr. Shenanigans saved the day as usual.  He took the boys to Old Navy at 8pm and bought 2 new pairs of long uniform pants each.  But really.  What the heck?

Seriously.  Who stole my pants?  This is killing me.  Any suggestions on where ELSE to look?

Sharing is caring!