We all have those flaws that are laughable. Some of mine include the fact that I’m bad at parking, my normal volume of voice is louder than average and I’m not the most punctual friend you’ll ever have. I’d like to think those flaws are ones that someone will embrace someday.
Something that really annoys me about me is that I commit to doing too much. All the time. I function well on six hours of sleep and that leaves me with 18 hours to get everything else done. My daily to-do list looks more like something that requires 30 hours. I do this to myself on a regular basis and end up running around like a semi-crazy person trying to get everything done. Any girl who has been at my house a couple hours before a girls’ night can attest to this. Aidan can attest to this regularly.
Oh, Aidan.
Last night we had a few things to fit in–a run for me, grocery shopping trip for the house, laundry to get done, new birthday toys to play with and cupcakes to bake and bring to Aidan’s school today. We kind of got everything done; some of the laundry remains to be folded and after I let the cupcakes cool last night I got so tired that I left the icing for this morning.
I got up, frosted the cupcakes with love (and Funfetti icing!) and then woke Aidan up for school.
The usual morning routine ensued and I did my round-up to get everything in the car–breakfast and lunch for me, show and tell item for Aidan, phone for me, winter gear for Aidan, cupcakes for his class.
Aidan, if you will recall, is finicky as all get out about clothing. We always bring his shoes with us and put them on when we get to his school. I can’t even explain the reasoning behind this compromise, but it makes actually getting out of the house infinitely easier.
I get a C- on motherhood today. I forgot my son’s shoes.
I just dropped off 18 perfectly frosted cupcakes and my child without shoes at school.
The cupcakes are the only reason I’m not giving myself an F. I could have gone back, which would have put me 15 minutes later than usual to work. And I’m trying to make myself feel better that at least his winter boots are at school and some of the other children like to take their shoes off and run around the carpeted classroom in socks.
But, really. I’m irritated that I didn’t have it together and that my son is the one on the short end of it all. I think it’s safe to say that, if I was being reviewed on my mothering today, I would not be deserving of a raise.
What drives you crazy about you?
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