Jeff was going through some Google Drive files from well over a decade ago and found a vault of “Weekend of [insert date range] Agenda” shared docs. For two years, I made an actual weekend itinerary document every single time we had custody.

I’d both forgotten these existed and that I made them in the first place. But reading them back now, even after a little gentle teasing from Jeff, I didn’t cringe. I was impressed with my past self and absolutely still stand by the itineraries.

With a 15-year-old, an 11-year-old, and a 6-year-old, there were genuine logistics to run. It always started with a basic request: Jeff would say something like, “Can you take Oldest to the party while I pick up Youngest from softball?” As soon as he asked, I thought, oh, we need to map this shit out. So I did.

Take Saturday dinner, October 12, 2013. I did not provide one option for a main course but five, each with its own recipe link: “Chicken meatballs & Marcella’s tomato sauce w/ pasta,” “Lemon chicken & croutons,” “Roast pork w/ apples,” “Pork chops w/ bacon/cheese grits?” and “New try on shredded pork?” When every meal you cook feels like a focus group evaluating your fitness as a future parental figure, you have to be prepared. I think this was also in the six-month window when we were negotiating with one kid who only ate meat and no pasta, one who preferred pasta but no cheese, and a third who would happily eat everything but had multiple food allergies.

Four separate times in that same document, in four empty activity slots, I typed “WTF are we doing?” Organizing my panic under the appropriate section header each time.

One activity block reads, in full: “Puzzle.” You might think that means we do a puzzle as a family, but I don’t puzzle well with others so I think that was me blocking off the time and making it clear that no one else was invited. And, on its own line: “Karen makes cake.” Interestingly, that came with no recipe link, and it wasn’t a holiday weekend, so I am still wondering what cake I made.

As a girl, I loved a clipboard: instant authority, control, and practicality. When I thought seriously about a career where I could operate clipboard-in-hand, I narrowed it down to cruise director and stage manager. Unfortunately, I do better on dry land and, while black is definitely my color, I can’t speak in a low voice, so both were eliminated.

People called me uptight. But every time someone tried to prove it, they described things I actually like about myself: needing a plan, being risk-averse, having (light... maybe) control issues. Being the soon-to-be stepmom puts pressure on even the tiniest of things: I hate sci-fi movies and Jeff and the kids love them. If I reject movie time, am I rejecting the family? If I watch but complain the whole time and ruin it for everybody else, is it further grounds for criticism? Jeff’s still mad that I “ruined” his 17th rewatch of “Blade Runner” by asking too many questions and then falling asleep.

Planning isn’t just about control; it’s about air cover.

Partial custody while we were still just dating meant every other weekend I was auditioning in front of a panel of judges who showed disappointment on their faces but never said what was on their minds. I didn’t have the history, and in so many ways we had little in common. But I think I thought that if I tried hard enough, I could remove some friction from the little time we had together… if not for them, then for me. Sartre said hell is other people, but I’d say hell is other people at 7:30, starving, no reservation, going “I don’t know… what do you want to do?” “I don’t know, what do you want to do?”

Very rarely does my own planning surprise me, but every once in a while, I see an artifact from 20- or 30-something Karen and think, “Wow, maybe she could have loosened up a little.” I didn’t think that when I saw these. I thought, “Wow, she needed a better event planning template.”

I haven’t changed; our extended family Christmas planning already has a run of show document using the same template I borrowed years ago from Tony and Craig, the best corporate event planners you’ve ever seen. Obviously, only fully confirmed items sit under the header that reads “Run of Show - Committed” while action items are in red. I won’t be packing a clipboard, but I always bring my clipboard energy.

I know some members of my family roll their eyes and some will never open the document (and instead just text me to ask what’s next). Maybe they’d all think I was more fun if I could “go with the flow.”

It doesn’t matter — they all know none of them will go hungry.

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