Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Change your shorts, change your life, change your life. Change into a nine-year-old Hindu boy, get rid of your wife

I've discovered the reason I never get anything done around here. Or the reason it SEEMS like I never get anything done. I think I have Attention Deficit Disorder. Particularly when it comes to getting things done around the house. Let me give you a for instance:

It is 9:30 in the morning. Nolan is having a nap. This means I have approximately an hour and a half to accomplish anything I'd like to accomplish without having to worry about taking care of/entertaining Nolan simultaneous to the accomplishing of things. (I often feel like a giant hand has just slammed down one of those buttons on a chess clock and shouted "Go!" the minute I put him down in his crib. I panic. What do I do first? Shower? Laundry? Eat? Ack!)

I decide I'd like to go down to our basement office setup and get on the computer for a little while. I hook Nolan's monitor to my waistband. I haven't eaten breakfast yet, so I figure I'll take a container of yogurt down with me to enjoy whilst I computerize. I go into the kitchen to get said yogurt.

I see Nolan's bib and high chair tray from breakfast that haven't been washed yet on the counter. I decide to quickly wash them so they'll be ready for lunch. I go over to the sink.

The sink is full of dirty dishes. I can't wash the bib and tray with a sink full of dishes. "Why are the dirty dishes not in the dishwasher?" I wonder.

Because the dishwasher is full of clean dishes, I discover. I open the dishwasher and begin unloading the clean dishes and putting them in the cabinets.

There is an empty beer bottle on top of the microwave waiting to be taken down to the recycling bin in the basement. I can't put dishes into the cabinet above the microwave while the beer bottle is blocking the way. I decide to quickly take the bottle down to the recycling bin.

I go downstairs. I pull the chain to turn on the light above the recycling area. Nothing happens. The light bulb is burned out. Damn.

I decide to quickly go back upstairs to get a light bulb from the linen closet in the bathroom. What's this on the floor of the bathroom? Towels? Why are there towels on the floor? Oh, yes, so I'd remember that they've been in use for two weeks and thus are dirty and need to go in the laundry. Right. I put them on the floor so I'd remember that.

I decide I'd better quickly throw those towels in the laundry. After all, the washing machine can run while I'm doing other things, right? I take the towels and the light bulb back downstairs.

I open the washing machine. What's this? There's wet laundry in the washing machine! It needs to go in the dryer, for heaven's sake! I put the towels on the floor.

I open the dryer. Crap. Clean clothes in there that need to be folded. Better quickly take those upstairs and throw them on the bed to be folded later. They'll get a little wrinkly, so what? I scoop all the clothes into my arms.

Upstairs again. Throw the clean clothes on the bed. I see the breast pump on the desk in the corner. Shit. If I'm gonna pump milk today, I'd better do it before Nolan wakes up and wants to nurse.

Oops, too late. There he is on the monitor, making little "Eh-eh-eh-eh" noises. Ding! Time's up! An hour and a half, just like that.

Does that sound like ADD? Or is that just Stay At Home Mom Syndrome?

Thanks for reading.

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