You know who you are. In fact, you probably had a hard time even sitting down to read this blog because you spent ten minutes looking for your charger, phone, or laptop. It’s rough some days isn’t it? Take Sunday for example, I sat down feeling like such a champ because I finished one task from start to finish—which in the world of Motherhood should earn you some kind of merit badge. I had not only organized myself enough to pay the bills, but I also took the time to mail them on schedule. Champion status, I know! Then, I realized that I had done a lovely job of placing the stamp in the left hand corner and the return address in the right.
The thing is, this is my life. This happens to me ALL the time and call it ‘mommy brain’ or whatever you like, but the truth is—I struggle to stay organized. Right now I am staring at the weekly meal plan that has been hanging on my fridge for a month, which to my surprise never seems to line up with anything I have prepared with each corresponding day of the week. I’m late returning library books, I have to re-wash the same load of laundry at least two times, and I’m convinced you can never ‘over fluff’ that load that lingers in the dryer.
I think today though, I hit an ultimate low. I was taking my daughter and godson to one of those indoor kiddie play areas. I have a love/hate relationship with these glorified parent watering holes! On one hand they masquerade as a calm oasis with soothing classical music and drip coffee, but on the other hand if your kid is the child trying to run around naked and turn all the lights off—how serene can it really be? I managed to keep Alana clothed and keep my godson from clubbing other kiddos in the head with the wooden cross he insisted on carrying around, only to be exhausted by the time we made it back to the car.
I opened up both passenger doors to get my kiddos loaded up and left my car door open to sling my purse on the seat, when low and behold. A chicken jumped in the car and started eating old cheerios off the floor. True Story. Now I wish I could tell you my car was so clean that the poor fellow starved to death, but sadly it was like an all-you-can-eat-buffet.
I think it’s safe to say that as well as an unorganized Mommy, I am also a self-proclaimed chicken nutritional humanitarian, changing the life of one chicken at a time.
So, here is a shout-out to all the other unorganized mommies, who have to work twice as hard as the organized folks, who are simply blessed to make it through the day with well-loved kids. We may not have the home-making down to a science, but we have our wits about us, and enough love to go around. I am with you and I feel your pain. Also, if your car needs vacuuming—call me. I know this chicken.