Elizabeth had a post about how she manages her family schedule. The most recent installment in the Times on class discusses another mother’s method:

Kathy Link is 41 with blond-streaked pigtails and, at 5-foot-9, straight as a spear. She is still in the red sun visor and tennis whites she wore leading her fitness class at the Forum Gym and winning at doubles afterward. Tucked by her seat is her color-coded itinerary.

Kaleigh, 8, is red. With school over this afternoon in late August, she has already been dropped off at her soccer practice blocks from home. Kristina, 11, is dark green, and Kelsey, 13, is yellow. Kristina must get to her soccer practice four miles to the north, and Kelsey to her practice 14 miles to the south.

Ms. Link (blue for work, light green for family and volunteering) surveys the clotted intersection at the mouth of her 636-house Medlock Bridge subdivision.

Am I this woman? Is she worthy of the reporter’s thinly veiled derision?

Like Elizabeth, I’ve got everyone’s family schedule organized a calendar program. I have to keep track of birthday parties, therapy schedules, baseball photographs, and school pizza day. I don’t do a great job of it, but I have to make some semblence of organization so that I don’t send Jonah in with lunch money on Nacho Day at school (yes, they feed the kids chips for lunch) or I forget to contribute to his teacher’s gift. Ian needs a chicken pox vaccine. Jonah’s birthday party will happen in July and not in June, because I didn’t make phone calls early enough.

Every Monday morning, I have to update the schedule, print it out, and put it on the side of fridge. I’ve been so busy that I only had a chance to figure out life this morning. Without the list, I’ve been oppressed by vague worries that I was forgetting something.

In addition to the responsibilities for the kids, I’m also Chief Contractor for our old home. I’ve been trying to lure Sam over here for months to fix the roof. He’s very much in demand. I’ve resorted to leaving him husky, toussled hair sort of messages on his machine to get him to the job. I have been also trying to track down someone else to replace some window frames and rotting porch boards.

Then there’s my own work. I’m knee deep in a research project now, and it’s using up every free second.

Hence my color coded schedule. Gag.

Back in college, my friend, Adrienne, and I sat on the hallway floor like we did every afternoon. Dressed in flannel before grunge hit big. We spent hours lazily talking about boys and working on the Times crossword puzzle. Cursing Eugene Maleska, we always finished the whole damn thing even on Fridays.

Adrienne had a photographic memory, so she never bothered to show up to her bio-chem classes until the final. If she woke up in time for the exam, she always got an A. So, Adrienne was a great person to blow time with. After the puzzle, we wandered to the campus pub where the usual suspects were carving their names on a table and chain smoking.

Days and weeks passed liked that. No schedules or lists.

I haven’t talked to Adrienne in years, because now she’s even busier than I am. She’s a mother and one of hottest doctors in the country. I’m going to track her down. We have years of crossword puzzles to catch up on.