Confession #1: This week my son has lost: his book report book, his reading book, his shin guards, and his right soccer shoe (which was in his soccer bag). I am officially about to lose my patience, more money, and my mind … because of him.
Confession #2: I had an hour to myself because my angel of a friend asked if she could take my crazy-disorganized son to soccer for me. I decided to workout. Three minutes in, my husband called and told me he’d be two hours late. I did not return to my workout, figuring another two hours without him to help WAS a workout.
Confession #3: My dinner prayer consisted of, “Thank you God for leftovers,” and “Please help me with everything else.”
Confession #4: It isn’t a dessert day, but Nutella is sweet. I convinced myself since it has hazelnuts, and nuts are protein, I was doing myself a favor by eating some … especially since I didn’t workout. I needed the extra health benefit. Don’t you agree?
Confession #5: I might have decided that the slightly-sticky bowl from the dishwasher wasn’t that sticky, and put it away fast before thinking about it too much.
Confession #6: I have lost the ability to sit down when I am eating dinner. I usually stand and empty the dishwasher. (I know you’ll be mad when you read this mom, but let me remind you – you never sat either, and still don’t! So don’t be mad.) Today, even with my family gone in different directions, I still stood. Is it weird to have to re-train yourself how to sit?
Confession #7: Sometimes I fold extra laundry just to give myself the opportunity to rewatch episodes of Gilmore Girls. I feel like Rory and Lorelai would be proud of this secret sneaky multitasking. If only I could live in Stars Hollow … oh the delight I’d have staying at the Dragonfly Inn and writing at Luke’s Diner.
Confession #8: I am planning to offer to put the kids to bed tonight, because then I’ll get to lay down next to them. When, I’ll wake up a few hours later, it will be “too late” to accomplish anything more. This may or may not be a regular planned occurrence.
Confession #9: When I find my son’s shin guards, and book, and other book … I am going to charge him three dollars for my time. Maybe five. He recently told me that when he was a little, he once “lost something” on purpose because he knew I’d say, “First one to find the missing item gets a dollar.” Punk! On second thought … make it ten!
Confession #10: I secretly wish against wish that you’ll share a confession of parenthood, marriage, or just LIFE IN GENERAL, with me because it’ll make me feel less like I’m in confession, and more like I’m chatting with friends who unequivocally “get” me.