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I stood there floored. Tuesday?! I thought it was Monday.
Scratch that; I was positive it was Monday. I have a calendar that is located on
our fridge. It is the keeper of the days. It is the teller of time. It is my
crutch that I lean on to make me do what needs to be done. The command center!
All our activities and schedules are there. Nicely organized and color
coordinated. (A little bit of OCD paradise if you will) All the days are
crossed off up until Monday. It can't be
Tuesday because I have stuff to do. A Tuesday appointment had been moved to
Thursday thankfully. But I had regular stuff that if I fall a day behind on I
will never catch back up (laundry especially). I check the TV. We have DVR and have a few of
my sons shows recorded. No such luck. It's live TV.
It seems I had lost a whole day in a matter of minutes. I
had that little bit of dread of knowing I was now tasked with trying to catch
up with the time I "lost." My first task, of course, was crossing off
Monday on the calendar. I don’t need to “lose” any more days. It really should
come as no surprise that this happens quite often now that I am at home 24/7.
If a task doesn't make it to the to-do list, it will most likely be forgotten.
My day's routines are all dependent on my son right now. I don't sleep until he
does. I rarely wake before him. My DVR is full of shows I have yet to make it
to. I know the passage of time only by meal schedules and dryer buzzes.
"Eat!" my son will say. Is it really lunch time already? Buzz!!! Wow
those clothes dried fast. The new mother forgetfulness has yet to subside,
Don't get me wrong, I love staying at home! I never have
cases of the "Mondays" and I love the added perk of taking a lazy day
and just hanging out with my kiddo. But these little slips of lost time are now
so important. My son is growing up so fast. And losing a day means losing
precious moments I could spend with him that are instead spent in catch up
mode. I am sure I will soon gain back my ability to keep better track of time.
My home decor will eventually stop being littered with little post it notes
scribbled with reminders. But, until then, I have mountains of laundry to catch
up on and a sweet little boy making a mess of his toys.
God Bless!