Thursday, December 20, 2012

For dearest Mommy...Dysfunctional Works

Christmas time reminds me of just how dysfunctional I am...and also how this works for me.

I've gotten used to multi-tasking. Now I didn't say I'm good at it, I only said I've gotten used to it. For instance, at this very moment I'm writing this blog, texting a friend and helping my wee one with a Christmas project. I hope she doesn't point out the fact that the reindeer's nose is crooked and he looks a bit drunk with a cross-eyed stare. My texting capabilities are pretty awesome. So what if every other word is misspelled. I can spell...really, I can. Everyone gets the drift anyway. Time has become a precious element. I've learned to not waste a minute. Oops...the fire is going out. Excuse me while I pause and stoke the flames. as I was saying, why I find myself so dysfunctional this time of year. I'm thinking this time of year should be filled with holiday cheer, spiked egg nog and relaxing by the fireplace watching a good Christmas movie. No, I haven't been tossing back egg nog. It was only a suggestion of what I'd like to see happen around this jolly ol' good time. Instead, I'm running with kids back and forth from Holiday party to Birthday party to sports functions and to friends'. By the way, I've missed half my wee one's school functions. Of course I feel rotten. At the last minute I remembered I was supposed to send in items for stocking stuffers. At nine pm I was scavenging through my hideaway supplies and found twenty kid toothbrushes and samples of toothpaste. No need to tell me what I already know. What kid wants clean teeth?

You know how our parents always told us to wear clean underwear because you never know there could be an emergency. Well, I tested this theory, but not with underwear. My middle child played soccer a few weeks and became ill. She ended up in the emergency room. Sitting in the hospital room she asked if she could take her shoes off. I kindly helped her out by pulling off the first shoe and my jaw hit my chest. What were holes could no longer be called holes because that gives the suggestion that there was material left. I'd call what I saw "threads." There were about two strings connecting what once were socks. Red-faced, I'm sure, I  realized I was supposed to buy her soccer socks at the beginning of the season. I'd forgotten. I asked, "Why didn't you remind me?" She said, "I did. Twice." Oops...

When we leave the house we always put our dog into the bedroom and close the door to keep him out of things he can't resist eating. I can count on one hand how many times I've forgotten him. Yeah, I do mean "forgotten." I'll be doing something, about two to three hours after arriving home, and I'll think I've missed something...oh sheetz...the dog. The poor baby. He's gotten used to mommy's bad behavior. I'll open the door and he'll just stare up at me with those sad brown eyes, like he's asking, "What the hell?"

Christmas is almost here. Let me surprise you...I'm not done shopping. Not surprised? Me either. I'm making a promise to myself that I'm going to start shopping in January. It should be my New Year's resolution.

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