It's almost done.
Like, 99.9% done.
Short of a fire burning down League headquarters or the entire postal system shutting down by next Wednesday (which as I type this, I realize both of those situations are distinct possibilities...eek...), it looks like this issue of the Sage is on the books.
Done. Dunzo. Finished.
Which means I can resume my life again.
Well, until October when all of this starts again.
I don't know how many of you have ever produced a newsletter, but the process is similar to pregnancy and birth (not Motherhood, since I will actually be able to sleep at night again, versus the sleepless nights with a newborn.) It's so true though - I mean, prior to all of this Sage drama, I was like, "What's so hard about putting a newsletter together? I can do it!" which is exactly the same thing I said about getting pregnant and having a baby.
Famous last words.
Everything is easier in theory. Likewise, the first time of doing anything is usually the hardest. Combine those two ideas together and you get my month of August.
There was the initial excitement about getting the articles together. Then meeting the designer and his team (i.e. the ob & L&D nurses) brought home the reality of the situation - we really are doing this. There is no backing out. Excitement, fear, anxiety, and delicious anticipation - no turning back now.
Then, of course, came the mood swings. "It's not working right!" "No one is listening to me!" "This is great, I love it!" I actually found myself repeating, "It's a marathon, not a sprint. Pace yourself, Kim," over the last few weeks. I got grumpy when I heard of friends going out and grabbing drinks, knowing that I didn't have enough time in my schedule to go, too. I felt left out. I felt like my life was passing me by as I labored over this publication.
I dreamt about the newsletter. I wouldn't stop talking about it to anyone who dared ask me about it. My intense sweet tooth came back and I actually devoured a plate of Rice Krispie treats in a single setting. (I'd like to thank Boot Camp and marathon training for not allowing me to have Newsletter Weight Gain through this whole fiasco.) I started having Newsletter Envy when I read through newsletters from other Junior Leagues, wishing we had their budget and professional design team that they had. I got really, really mad at the design team (how familiar does that sound?) and wanted to fire them mid-way through the production. They weren't listening to me.
I could go on and on, really. How disturbing is this? Yet, this is my life.
Anyways, as of yesterday, fellow committee member Jessica swooped in and saved our little newsletter at the last minute. In what can only be described as the Worst Play Date Ever, she and I, along with our toddlers, spent four and a half hours finishing the publication. It started out fine, but as soon as the kids got cranky, all hell broke loose. Poor Jessica had Grace by the leg at one point, bouncing and jiggling her, while the other hand was frantically clicking on the mouse. Scotty, Ye of Independent Play, decided to be an absolute pest for 4.5 hours that day and fussed, whined, and cried when all of my attention was not on him. I crawled on the carpet and barking like a dog in an effort to entertain the children. Scotty missed his nap window by 2.5 hours and by the time we got home, I literally threw a cookie at the kid and tossed him in the crib. I knew he was exhausted and wouldn't eat anything else, so I opted for the path of least resistance. Mother of the Year material, I know.
But...at least it's done.
I took our little newsletter to be printed today, and watching those glorious, glossy pages emerge from the copier made my heart swell with pride. Printing a newsletter is a lot less messy than labor and delivery, and far less painful as well. I think we're over the big hurdle, so now we're just going to sit back and wait for others to enjoy our baby just as much as we do.
Well, until October comes. ::sigh::
(Big thanks to my committee for all of their hard work! Way to go, ladies!)