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?