I Forgot…

Well, I forgot one of my kids tonight.

It was bound to happen eventually (Actually it might have happened before. I’m not sure. I forget.).

Fortunately her dad didn’t forget her and, while Ivy was the last kid picked up from her after school activity, she was remarkably fine with the fact that her mother forgot her.

(That’s not our kitten- Thank goodness!)

I mention this because:

A) Lots of people lately have been all “Omg you are amazing, you do so many things!” And I try to tell them things like, “Yeah, no,” and “Not really,” and then they don’t believe me so I try hard to learn how to accept a compliment and move on. But here is the thing. If you, like me, talk about slightly abnormal things like chasing escapee geese in a flooded river (I really should share that story here…) and traveling with pigeons and keeping bees, it seems that people assume you are doing all those things plus all the things that people, mothers even, regularly do. And to that crazy thought I say, “HA! Are you serious!?” my days have 24 hours in them just like everyone else’s. Something always has to give and in my life it always seems to be the “boring” things- you know, cooking, cleaning, and remembering things, like how to count to three (coincidentally that’s how many children I have) that fall by the wayside. Nobody is superhuman, least of all me.

B) She’s fine! I’m not the worst mother in the world (John assures me crackhead mothers and people who drown their children are much worse than me.). Sometimes people leave you hanging. Sometimes you have to wait. Sometimes shit happens. Would it be better if someone else taught my kid that sort of lesson? Probably. Do I still love her and she knows it? Yes.

C) Have I forgotten to return your call or your bowl or your e-mail or drop off a bag of apples or some other thing that I forgot I even forgot recently? Don’t be offended, it’s not you. I forgot my own kid today.

 

Advertisements

Toilet Paper

Thirty Six.

I’m thirty six years old.

I have three children that I haven’t manged to lose or have taken away from me. I can put food on the table on a regular basis. I take care of dogs and cats and chickens and ducks and geese and pigs and bees and a dove and they all seem content with my care. I can do the laundry and build tables. I can write blogs and repair minor electrical issues. I can shoot a shotgun and cut up the hindquarter of a deer. I can do a handstand, race a canoe and grow my own vegetables.

I am in many regards a totally successful adult.

So why, why, can I not remember to buy toilet paper on a regular basis?

Why are we always making an emergency toilet paper run?

Why do I do things like beg my friends for a roll of toilet paper so it doesn’t have to be an emergency and then forget it ?

Why have I done that exact same thing twice this year?

And why, why is it that it takes a half a roll of toilet paper in a house with four girls before I realize that we are out.

Every. Time.


Come on all you lovely readers, it can’t be just me! Make me feel better, what’s the one thing you always forget?

nanopoblano1