"I just want to finish the grocery shopping."
So I set the bar a little lower...
"I just want to get to the grocery store."
Nope, not really an easier. Lower the bar juuuuust a touch...
"I just want to get out the front door."
Guess I should just be a little more realistic...
"We'll order pizza and have mac 'n cheese all week. I'll throw in some baby carrots for good measure."
I remember the days when my boys were babies and I thought getting out the door was "soooo hard." I look back and laugh. The only "hard" thing about getting babies out the door is all the crap I chose to bring along and making sure I didn't catch their pudgy chins in the 5-point harness when I clipped them in their car seats.
They were tiny blobs that moved when and where I moved them. Those were the good 'ol days.
Now, when they can walk and talk and fool around and fart on command and put their shoes anywhere but where they belong and can be easily found? Getting out the door takes ten times longer. Then we have to actually get in the car. That adds at least 4 minutes in wrestling, climbing and whining.
My boys are good kids, well-behaved and pretty obedient. But their kids. Big kids. And most importantly, they are boys. So why just walk out the front door and get in the car when you can shove your brother and yell, "Race you!" while running out the door with all the contents of your backpack flying across the front yard which has, of course, just recently been watered?
But everyone once in a while I catch a break. I'd like to say that my children have pity on me and politely open the door for one another and climb into the car and fasten their seat belt at Olympic speed. I'd be lying if I said any of those things. Sometimes it's the universe and my fellow man that give me a break. I may not be able to control the efficiency of my children, but sometimes having other things function a bit more easily is enough to help me make it through the day a little easier.
Know what this is?
No? How about this?
These, my friends, is Mankind's way of making my life easier, giving me a break, one could say. You see I own a California King bed. Supposedly it's a rectangle measuring 72 in X 84 in. When looking at it, I can totally see it's a rectangle. It's obvious. I mean, duh, I can totally recognize a rectangle when I see one, right? Um, not when I'm trying to put the freaking sheet on. No matter how many times I tell myself "the tag goes on the bottom right corner" the freaking thing never goes on correctly. I always have the short side of the sheet on the long side of the bed. And I never realize until I'm giving myself a hernia trying to wrestle that stupid final corner into place. And now they've tried to "help" by making all 4 sides elasticized. Not helping me figure out which side goes where when the whole thing keeps springing back in my face.
So imagine my joy when I discovered these two tags sewn into my sheets. Yes, they tell me exactly which side of the sheet goes where on my ginormous bed that is twice as wide as my wingspan and 2 feet taller than I could even dream of becoming. It's like the sheet manufacturer knew my pain. I imagine he has a tiny wife who struggles like I do. I imagine him coming home from his sheet producing factory to find his wife entangled in the beautiful California King sized sheet weeping and lamenting, "Why? Why can't my wonderful husband just put a freaking tag on the inside of the sheet!?" And an idea was born...
There are other ways the universe has worked to make my life a little easier. Take this for example...
Seems simple enough, right? Mothers around the world have used Sharpies and needle and thread to make sure socks always returned to their rightful owners. But how many people actually have a child in their home whose first name starts with an L? I do. That's right. As my children get older, and DS2's feet surpass everyone in the home, it gets harder and harder for me to decipher who belongs to which socks. The universe has helped me tackle this problem. Sure, the "L" was created to signify left vs right. But that really isn't much help to me. Now, however, I can make a pile of "L" socks and know they are for my son Luke. I thought about changing DS2's name from Nate to Ralph but figured if I could identify Luke's socks I am at a minimum smart enough to deduce the remaining socks belong to Nate. Yes, I'm that smart.
Recently, I had help from the medical profession. Wait, not "that kind of help." DS1 had strep this last week and that meant it was time for some antibiotics. Now this kid hasn't been on antibiotics in years. But my memories of them were not pleasant. Lots of pink suspension medication being dribbled down the chin, shot out the nose or unceremoniously up-chucked on the table. That bubble gum taste is nasty so I dont' know who the pharmacists think they're kidding.
So when I dropped off his prescription for Amoxicillin last week I was determined to ask them to add a flavor. Unfortunately, just because DS1 felt like he was "swallowing glass" (his words, not mine) it did not deter him from talking a crapton while we were dropping of his meds. Needless to say I was answering some sort of question about the universe when I handed over the RX and I totally forgot to ask for the cherry flavor. I didn't realize until I picked it up and had to give him his first dose- the first of 20. (Is it really so hard to make all kid antibiotics 5 day?) So I prepped him, "Honey, I forgot to get the cherry flavor. This is bubble gum. It's going to be gross. I'm sorry I failed you. Please don't barf on me or the floor. I actually got to shower this week and was hoping to be done until next week. And I just mopped the floor." Imagine my surprise when he unclenched his eyes and swallowed happily exclaiming, "It's cherry! Soooo good!" Thank you Pharmacist for recognizing a harried and unfocused mom with a no short term memory when you see one.
I tasted it myself... Not bad.
And last but not least, I appreciate it when technology, the universe, whatever you want to call it, helps me out by simply understanding me. Nothing feels worse than feeling as if you're the only person to face a challenge. So when someone in the universe gives me the proverbial fist bump and says, "I feel ya, girl," I feel so understood and normal. My Keurig did that for me this week. Well, it does it every time I turn it on, but this week I actually noticed the virtual hug it was sending my way...
Oh Keurig, you might even know me better than my iPhone. And we all know the iPhone knows me better than Hubs. Just to be known and understood is enough to get my ready for the day. And apparently the fact that I hugged my Keurig didn't go unappreciated. As soon as I released it from my tender embrace it said...
Thanks to you, Keurig, I am ready to begin my job as well. Thanks for the encouragement.
So as you can see, the challenges of life will not be my demise. I will overcome because the good people of the world feel my pain and offer solutions.
I get by with a little help from the universe, the manufacturer of sheets, the guy who invented labels for socks, the pharmacist and my Keurig.
That's just my normal.