The intellectual bank of BoyMommy is overdrawn.
Like many of you, I look at other women and think, “I don’t
know how she gets it all done.” I have
friends and neighbors who always seem to have their sh*t together, and I feel
like I’m one microwave meal away from a room with padded walls.
I’m busy. I’m the
president of the elementary school PTA, I’m on the board of the local Little
League, I’m working on my Master’s Degree, and then I have this little gig
called parenting. I love all of these
things and don’t want to give any of them up. I love being in the school, I love being
involved in an activity that my entire family holds dear, and I love that I’m
finally doing something for myself by thinking of my own future. Of course, all this is secondary to my day
job, which primarily consists of keeping three boys alive while feeding them
nothing but grilled cheese and chicken nuggets.
It’s not like I’m spending my days going all Martha here at home.
I get in bed every night, exhausted, but my brain is all
swirly. I lay there and think of inane
topics until I finally shut down about an hour later. It’s like there’s no twilight for me; it’s
all fluorescent lights and then darkness, and somewhere in there I’m supposed
to relax enough to sleep.
So last night I wrote some stuff down. Obviously these are extremely important
items that my brain thinks I MUST consider before shutting down:
1. I wonder what Bill
Murray’s favorite movie is.
2. Does Dolly Parton
sleep on her back, or on her side? I’m
gonna go with side. Otherwise . . .
gravity.
3. What’s Puerto Rico
like?
4. Welcome to my
house, play that music too loud, show me what you do now, we don’t like to go
out . . .
5. I need to make a
decision about kitchen paint color.
6. Does Keith
Morrison sound like that in real life? I wanted coffee . . . with sugar . . . but what
about the creamer?
7. Is it Nels Faptha,
or Fels Naptha?
8. My neighbor looks
a little like Newt Gingrich.
9. Was Ione Skye in
any other movies besides Say Anything? I’m gonna have to google.
10. I wonder if birds
know how stupid they are.
I know you feel me, moms.
What stupid stuff is taking up residence in your brain where knowledge
used to be?
