How To: Be The Worst Procrastinator Mom From The PTA

Two weeks ago I got a big purple paper in Adam’s take-home folder. It said something like: “March 2, 2012 is Read Across America Day.  To celebrate, your child can dress up as their favorite character from a book.  Feel free to also bring the book to school…” etc, etc, blah, blah, blah.  This is so great, I think.  I love days like this. Wild Thing LOVES days like this.  And he set his heart on being Harry Potter.

Now, to start with, Adam is five and he has not yet read any Harry Potter books. I have and Not the Mama has and we love them.  Adam does, however, have a Lego Harry Potter sticker book (like this: ) and his favorite game on the iPad is the one with Harry Potter, also presenting as a Lego. So, for the purposes of getting to dress up as Harry, he had decided that IS his favorite book and so here we are. (I want to interject here that I tried to convince Adam that Harry doesn’t wear a cape, he wears dress robes…but ‘dresses are for girls’ came out so many times I gave up. A cape, it is, then.)

Now, good moms from the PTA read this purple paper, put down what they were doing and got the costume together first thing.  Okay, maybe, for the sake of argument, they even did it the next day.
But the worst procrastinator didn’t.  She waited until 10 pm the night before to even go to the Walmart for supplies.

Here is your turn, my friends, to learn the art of Procrastination.



Step One: Forget the big day, whatever it happens to be this time. (Seriously, I forgot to take grapes to the holiday party.  Completely forgot. Remembered like two weeks too late.  Embarrassing! Does not make you a cool PTA mom to the other PTA moms.  Oops.)

Step Two: Remember at the last moment about the big day. Realize your husband is supposed to have a sleep study done tonight and he can’t, he just can’t, because you have to make a cape now and figure out a wand and glasses. He reschedules.  Because you really are the worst procrastinator mom. Maybe ever. Poor guy.

Step Three: Rush out the door the minute husband gets home. Know that you need to go to Walmart but hit the bookstore first, just in case they might maybe have some kind of Harry costume.

Step Four: Browse the bookstore, drink some coffee, pick up some of those old library books they sale for $3 because for some reason you love to read a library book all wrapped in the plastic and know you never have to return it.

Step Five: Get more coffee because, oh gracious, it’s 10:00 and you have no sewing machine and you still have to make a cape!! Hurry!

Step Six: Go to Walmart at 10pm for fabric, buttons, thread, black acrylic paint, probably some milk and other groceries that don’t fit into this story, glasses, tape for glasses and anything else that might be Harry Potter-ish.

Step Seven: Text husband who is at home: you have a great idea: Carve a wooden spoon into a wand! (he did a great job I might add)

Step Eight: Shop for Harry Potter:
-Debate for 20 minutes about the glasses. These or these? Send pictures to hubby to see which ones he thinks…Oh good grief! Just buy a pair!!
-Wait FOREVER for the craft lady to come cut the fabric. Seriously holding the scanner machine to just do it yourself when some manager-esque guy comes by with an important looking badge and a fancy headset thing. He page someone for you.  And looks at you weird for a bit, with his head cocked to the side.

Step Nine: Go home. Coach yourself all the way there that while it’s your bedtime, that just too darn bad! This is why you are the worst, if you’d only done this when you got the purple paper….

Step Ten: Get ready to cut fabric. Search frantically for the Fiskars scissors with which to cut fabric while you think for the twentieth time why you didn’t do this before your mom, the champion sewer (who has all the supplies you just spent $20 on and a lovely sewing machine) went out of town. SHE could have done this entire thing in 3 minutes. Seriously. And she probably has four pairs of sewing scissors…

cut fabric. without fabric scissors because you can't find them. and without a fabric measuring board thing so it'll be reallllly crooked.

Step Eleven: Wait a minute.  Cancel that: The Real Step Ten: Open a Woodchuck. That will make things a little more fun. And THEN get ready to cut the fabric.

Step Twelve: Cut the fabric all crazy with not sharp, non-fabric scissors because you can’t find the nice, expensive fabric scissors you KNOW are somewhere around here because you just used them two days ago to finish the tutus!  Then use the iron to wonder-under the sides down. But those don’t stay.  So….

Step Thirteen: Sew the edges of the cape.  By hand, mind, because you don’t have a sewing machine. They aren’t straight but it’s 1am you don’t even care anymore and Harry Potter doesn’t wear a dadgum cape anyway for goodness sakes!!!

Step Fourteen: Attach the button.  With glee because, well, you’re almost done and two, because you love sewing on buttons (really).

Step Fifteen:  Show it to your kid, who thinks it is awesome and has no idea it isn’t straight, it took forever and that Granny could have done it so much better if only you’d remembered to do it last week.  Paint the lighting bolt on his head three times until you get it right (and do this with a spatchula…when you aren’t prepared you get creative and the edge of it is just the right width.  That is, unless you have an actual paintbrush.  But then you wouldn’t be a procrastinator mom now would you?

Step Sixteen: Watch him preen in the mirror until he goes to school and has Read Across America Day. Take some pictures because he looks darn cute.


And that, my friends, is how to be the worst procrastinator mom from the PTA.


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