Well, It has been a while since I posted, but in my defense I have been working on school work, running to the football field 4 days out of 7, and trying to keep my house from looking like it is just a dumping ground. I will have to give credit to my husband who has started doing dishes and laundry.
Let me clarify...when I say laundry I mean wash and dry and put in a basket in the kitchen. At least it is clean. It now means that I have to iron though. Have I mentioned before I HATE TO IRON!!!! Now I know some people like it and find it relaxing...I do not...this is where my ADD and OCD come out. I cannot stand to not have it done perfect. Some can give just a "lick and a promise"....I am not one of those people. I have to put creases in pants, sleeves, and whatever else. I now hate cargo pants due to the funky pockets on them. My son hates it now that I am ironing. He questioned why his T-shirt had to feel "stiff". I don't use starch so I don't know why....Anyway Mom, if you are reading this I have the ironing board in the living room and it is being used. You would be so proud. HA HA HA
On a more funny note as to where my brain is not....Most of you know that I am finishing my nursing degree, but it requires me to travel to Chattanooga two nights a week. I leave around 1:30 or 2 to be there early and then I get home about midnight. Needless to say on Tuesday and Thursday mornings I am not all together with only 5 1/2 to 6 hours of sleep. This morning I had only about 4 hours as my husband had to leave for a business trip. I remembered that I had left my lunch box in the car and needed to take some things out and put them in the fridge so I got up and grabbed my keys to unlock the car. I unpacked my lunchbox and went back to bed for a very short hour. After getting up and stumbling to the kids rooms to say get up and trying to pry my eyelids open to see enough to get some breakfast out I start packing lunches. This is a fairly normal routine. Well as the morning progressed I realized I couldn't find my car keys. I don't have a spare as they cost like $90 since I apparently have a complicated car that wants a computerized chip in the key. GEEZ...Anyway, I spent 20 minutes looking through my house. I am supposed to take the neighbor kids this morning as their mom is without a car. I start flipping out and crying (I could have passed for pregnant hormonal/crazy woman at this point). Well I called my friend Stacie who is the absolute best. She dropped her boys at school and then came to let me use her car until I could find my keys. She has a spare Miata to drive. I got the kids to school 20 minutes late (I had to sign them in wearing my PJ's which were scrubs with old paint on them, an oversized GA t-shirt, no bra, and no shower)(Heidi you can feel my pain), but at least they were there...They were planning play dates with each other for the day....I kept hearing ...."Wow, we can play school....No, why play school if we are at home....How about house?...Well, maybe, but you can be my mom she is crazy this morning." I wasn't sure whether I should laugh or cry some more.
Well, I worked on my school work, I cleaned the house. I started in the kitchen, moved to the living room, and so on. I couldn't find my keys anywhere. So my last resort at this point....point of desperation....I called my mother-in-law. I swear she can find anything. Well she drove from her house to mine and helped me look. We started looking in everyroom, picking up things I missed earlier. She then asked if I had looked in Cassie's room. I said yes, but not real well because I really thought Jacob had my keys hidden somewhere (he is my key hog). As I walked in her room I saw my keys, the ones I had been looking for all day in a tizzy, on her dresser. Can I tell you how foolish I feel that the whole time they were out in the open, not under anything, but just laying there on the dresser.
Now I know that this has been long winded, but I thought I should share my "senior moment" or for those of you who know CRS syndrome. HA HA HA I hope you all have better days
