An example of why I (mothers) can never really get stuff done.

Me: *Scurry, scurry, scurry… Clean, clean, clean…*

Me: *Madly cleaning… scurry, scurry…*

Me, inside voice: “By 11 I want the kitchen “mostly” cleaned, a shower, dry my hair and get 10-20 more minutes of pantry organization done…” 

Note: I started organizing my pantry 3 days ago. 3 full days ago.

Lucy (my 3 year old): “Oh! No!”

Me: *looks over*

Rice Krispies float down a river of milk on the table, bench and, now… floor.

My inside voice: “I did not factor that into my cleaning goal!”

Me: *cleans spill, loses at least 3 minutes, if not 5*

Me: *returns to goal-related tasks… wiping counters-n-such*

Lucy: “I meed some yo-guut (yogurt).

Me, knowing if I don’t comply I will sacrifice more time: “OK.” *As if I had spent my whole life training, I launched into nible-ninja mode and backflipped toward the fridge. As I came down my right leg hooked and opened the fridge door… my arm reached in and flipped a container of yo-guut from the shelf… as I spun about (mid-air) the velocity of my wind opened the top of the yo-guut and peeled away the foil-safety-top. I caught the opened container of unspilled yo-guut with my left hand, slid toward the kitchen table like a pro-baseball player, and handed Lucy her yo-guut.*

Lucy: “I meed a ‘poon”.

Me: “GAH!”

Me: *gets spoon, and I look around (Superman stance) because I can’t remember what I was doing before*

Me: “Ah yes!” I begin loading the dishwasher, among other glamourous things.

Table area: “Thud. Gush.”

Me: “Whu?! No!”

Lucy: “I spiwwwed a yo-guut.”

Me, in my head, “Don’t curse, don’t curse, don’t curse…”

The yogurt is onthetableontheflooronthewallontheeverywhere!

Me: *growls* I think I was a tiger or maybe a badger in another life.

Lucy: “I fink I am in twouble.”

Me: *hands her the clue phone* “Ya fink, Lucy”

Me: *finished yogurt cleaning, loses who know how much time towards meeting my 11 o’clock goal, and adds another dish to the dishwasher.”

Lucy: *petting hair* 

Lucy: “I fink I have yo-guut in mah hay-er.”

She says “hair” with the cutest Southern accent…

I then wipe the yogurt from her hay-er, and I tell her she’s not in twouble. I throw my hands up in the air – had I a white flag, I’d have waved it too. And then I came upstairs to write this post… And the activity never stopped. Lucy landed on Livi’s stomach, Livi contracted a phantom splinter and needed tweezers, requests for toothpaste and lost toothbrushes were made, a kiss for an owie and… and… maybe I’ll go take a shower. I’m pretty sure Lucy will come in and ask if she can take one too. 

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