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Moms Are Scatter-Brained For a Reason

If you ever come across a mom who seems scatter-brained, perhaps you are the mom who seems scatter-brained, let me illustrate one possible way the scatter happens.

In my case, I came to the end of this day with 17, SEVENTEEN, times of being in the car today--and it was a fairly normal day.

  • Wake up, shower, dress, etcetera; Ope, I'm seeing people outside my house today so I have to look nice. Do these shoes go with these pants? I don't like these pants; they're always sidling down to 3 inches below my waist. I should take them in. When am I going to take time to alter them? Um... I guess I'll (insert geometric shape) back to that.

  • Feed Bunny.

  • Wake up children.

  • Start laundry.

  • Wake up children again.

  • A little tidying up.

  • Wake up one child again.

  • Get ready for school. Load Bunny in travel carrier.

  • Go to school; the ride to school is time for daily prayers and whatever nagging needs to happen for the day's events; Kara is now at school.

  • Come home. Unload Bunny.

  • Finish more putzing around the house; change the laundry. Make breakfast for Kal. Oh, yes, I did eat a couple eggs this morning.

  • Make coffee for Kal (yes, he does better for the day with a coff of cuppee and a little creamer).

  • Kal gets ready for band. Loads Bunny in travel carrier.

  • Take Kal to band. Talk to Bunny.

  • Go to 4-H office to drop off ticket money we collected.

  • Go to Kris's office to chat during the remainder of Kal's band time. Hear all the ways his day has been ruined before 10:00 a.m. while sipping leftover coffee from his morning pot.

  • Pick up Kal. I take the route on Broadway because I like the store facades. They're pretty.

  • Take Kal home. Unload Bunny

  • Finish kitchen work. Make bed. Pick up whatever junk is out of place in bedroom. Mix up a batch of beef stew for crock pot. Scold Bunny for poo-ing at the basement door. Clean up Bunny's mess.

  • Clean up my favorite travel coffee mug. Forget to make coffee.

  • See Kal's workout routine as he demonstrates in the garage.

  • Hail Kris as he pulls in for a lunch break.

  • Make a sandwich for Kal. He doesn't like them drying out, so the sandwich goes in a covered Tupperware box.

  • Pull out soup can for Kris.

  • Change the laundry.

  • Finish gathering my things for the next couple hours.

  • Finally get over the the office where I'm studying for a test.

  • Collect my thoughts for the first 4 minutes while there: check calendar, jot down more to-dos, look ahead and realize I had the wrong time in my head for the basketball tournament on Saturday;

  • Get settled into that work;

  • Answer several calls from back home.

  • Text various people who need to hear a bit of information from me; or for whom I could... Now what was I going to say?

  • Do some studying, which was my goal all along.

  • Go pick up Kara from school. Counsel Kara on interpersonal relationships.

  • Go home while calling Kal to be ready for basketball practice.

  • Run in for a pit stop and to get Kal out the door.

  • Go to basketball practice; drop off Kal.

  • Back to the studying place by way of beautiful Broadway street again.

  • Study; Kris calls to say he's done at work, wants to know if I need him to pick up Kal. No, thank you.

  • Pick up Kal from basketball.

  • Go home, this time by way of River Road, which, as the name implies, runs along the Wabash River. Very pretty.

  • Find out my stew was soup. Throw in a partial cup of flour. It thickens, but also clumps up. I don't have the energy to care. Otherwise, it tastes good.

  • Run downstairs and finish marking out the hems for my brother's curtains. Sew the seams. Iron the seams--then the entire curtain.

  • Make Kal eat before he has to go to his next event, the HAM class. Kris and Kara eat, too. (I'm waiting since I have yet another event to attend.)

  • Tell Kal to pack a water bottle and church snack (you know, something that doesn't make noise or leave crumbs) for his class. Nope. Not a cool thing to do. Nobody else in the entire class will have anything during the 3-hour class. No way. Not a hill for me to die on.

  • Take Kal to his class. Don't forget the curtains I just finished.

  • Go to my brother's for a wedding planning meeting with several other family members on both sides of the family.

  • Hang the curtains I just hemmed. Yay. The window looks nice.

  • Admire the newly-painted staircase in his house. Looks wonderful, and it has a bit of grit in the paint so an unwary person won't tumble down the stairs.

  • Sink into a chair while making my acquaintance with those I've not met before.

  • Eat the tacos my brother and his fiancee made.

  • Chit chat.

  • Have the planning meeting, along with making out guests lists. Lots of question marks and blanks filled in by the end of the night.

  • Hold my chubby, cute nephew. He doesn't want to be held by Aunt Becka, so back to mommy.

  • Make sure all the main details of wedding planning are covered.

  • Bid adieu.

  • Go home, this time by Main Street which is full of lights and makes me feel comfortable. Plus the street is wide, so I feel safer driving on it and being able to see obstacles before they are directly in my path.

  • Putz around the house trying to finish something. Get nothing really done except changing into comfy clothes for the night.

  • Kal comes home, thanks to our friends who dropped him off.

  • Listen to his excitement as he tells all about what he's learning in the HAM radio class. Let him show me what fabulous equipment we just have to have for life to be complete. (I am loving his excitement!)

  • Shoo the kids to bed. Don't forget to brush teeth. And put in that retainer, Kara!

  • Putz around more.

  • Shoo kids to bed again. This time with more of a mama bear tone than a unicorn.

  • Pray with the kids. Tuck them in. Turn out the lights. Kiss, kiss, and more kisses.

  • Read a chapter aloud to them in the book we're reading at night.

  • Finally get to my own room, sink into my chair with the laptop on... my lap. Head flops back, mouth agape to catch a few winks before I write.

  • Get some writing done, then decide 12-years tired is reason to go to bed ahead of publishing a post.

  • Finally sleep.

And that was my day yesterday, minus many of the details that happened.

So next time you see a scatter-brained mom, please give her a smile, a pat on the back, and a cup of hot coffee. Trust me, she can't remember the last time she got to drink hot coffee--like first-time hot, not reheated 5 times.


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