I feel like my head is very, very full these days. There is so much I need to do, so much I should be doing. So many books I am reading and want to read. A project I am working on with a friend that I want desperately to come to fruition, but I’m a bit unsure how to make it so. A business idea I thought was absolutely BRILLIANT as I drove to preschool pick-up; so life-shattering that I visualized myself on Shark Tank and took time to write a short business plan in the Notes section of my iPhone.
I promptly forgot ALL about it for like, a week, you guys. (Though I was pleasantly surprised when I rediscovered it. Still a great idea!)
Call it Three Kids Syndrome. I don’t sleep many consecutive hours. I’m desperate for peace and quiet, and yet genuinely adore time spent with my family. The great paradox of the middle thirties. A shower a day is not typically in the cards for me. I am constantly shuffling everyone’s wants and needs, including my own. It’s exhausting and exhilarating.
Here is a short list of goals and things that are on my brain, because maybe you wanted to know?
- Christmas shopping done by Thanksgiving. All of it. Get out of my brain space, Christmas-gifting.
- The dull caffeine withdrawal headache I am nursing currently going from two to one cups of coffee daily.
- J’s work event pub crawl this weekend. What to wear?
- I hope the new sitter works out this weekend because those kids be crazy.
- Remember to tell her the baby nearly choked on that tiny train track connector in playroom this afternoon. DO NOT LET BABY CHOKE.
- I need to pump.
- I need to exercise.
- I have a half-marathon in ONE MONTH holy shit I am ill-prepared.
- I need to put the clothes and diapers away lest they rise up in rebellion as they are slowly taking over this large house.
- Mail Mom’s package.
- Mentally prep for sitting with Mom during chemo next week. (Bone marrow transplant, y’all. Prayers appreciated.)
- Where will baby go when I go to hospital? Baby cannot go to hospital and cannot be without mama. Conundrum.
- Why is there no place to hide these damn Christmas gifts? Like seriously: why is there no secret place in this large house?
- I named this post “That Time The Bees Attacked” and then completely forgot to write about that time.
- I need to create 86 photo albums and one calendar before year’s end.
- Digital photos will be the death of me.
- Must delete photos off of my phone.
- What happened on that last episode of Girls, Season 1? Like, really. What happened there?
You guys are totally welcome for that precious sampler of insanity.
(And okay: so a few weeks ago we went to do our family photo session in the park in our neighborhood. We hadn’t done one in three years, as we kept – stupidly – putting it off until our family was complete. Anyway, Ailie was not impressed with smiling, and Violet’s boots refused to stay on, and then a tiny boot fell onto a bee’s nest, which J stepped on, and then did the hoppy-footed cartoon dance as he was stung FOUR TIMES. And then we all ran screaming across the entire park as the bees gave chase. And then sweet Ailie was stung. And then she screamed for an hour. And we went home, and then J said, “Hmm… I’m covered in hives and my chest feels tight and my throat is closing up. I’ll just take some Advil and lay on the couch then.” And I said: “GET THEE TO THE ER!” And he said, “NO WAY! They charge $150; if anything I’ll do urgent care.” And then he spent a lot of time looking up urgent care facilities because PRIORITIES. Steroid shot. Epi Pen. FIN.)