Sorry I have been MIA for the past week or so. Me and the fam have been in California visiting Scott’s parents. And I have another chapter for the book due on Friday. And I have been looking at houses online, even though we can’t seem to sell our house. And I got a new computer this week to replace my beast of a Mac–this may not seem like an excuse, but I haven’t installed Word on it yet, so it is difficult to write. So those are my excuses. Luckily, my excuses relate to your last post on bad habits. So, here goes:
1. Procrastination: I try to tell myself that I procrastinate because I work better under deadlines, but the truth is that I just don’t like doing work that is important and good and healthy. I would much rather do things that are more useless, like the online house hunt. I get myself all psyched up over a house that I know is MEANT FOR ME, gosh darn. I look at the pictures over and over again online, I plan where my furniture will go, I drive by the house like a crazy boy-band stalker. I email my realtor to make sure he knows about how the stars have aligned to bring me this perfect house. I email the link to my mom and dad and sister and mother-in-law and father-in-law and husband (even though my husband has caught on to how ridiculous this is and usually doesn’t click on the link at all). I calculate my mortgage payment. Then the house sells and I pout. I pout for many moons and hope that those stupid buyers run into financial troubles and their stupid loan falls through. It’s all highly mature. And this is but one example of Things that I Do Instead of Working. I also spend time searching for recipes that I will never make, reading DIY blogs for projects that I will never do, playing online mahjongg (I know– am I eighty?!?), and then, of course, Facebook. The habit becomes even worse when I have something important that needs to be done semi-soonish. Like writing, for hypothetical instance.
2. Being Late: I, too, have this problem, which becomes worse when your husband is manically on-time for everything. I am never WAY LATE, which is how I’ve rationalized my problem. I am the five-minutes-late kind of person, usually because of someone else’s poop, as you mentioned. Also because I find it absolutely unavoidable to return to the locked house five or so times after everyone is finally strapped into their car seats. And I think, I think, that the procrastination has something to do with it, too. Like, I’m so engrossed in a recipe for raspberry lemon cheesecake that I don’t notice that I should have been changing a diaper so we’d be ready to go.
3. Needing to be Right: I had this one hammered into my brain about a week or two ago when I broke my toe on Miles’s big boy bed. The thing is on wheels, you see, and Miles is not so interested in napping now that he has this ability to be NOT on the bed when he is SUPPOSED TO BE on the bed. So instead of sleeping, he rolls his bed all over his room and plays elaborate games with cars in the space where his bed should be. Scott and I have told him repeatedly that he is not under any circumstances to move his bed, but he does it anyway. Shocking, I know. So, on the day of said toe-destroying incident, the bed was in the middle of the room. Directly in the way of the trash can where we put the dirty cloth diapers. (This story involves poop, too. Also shocking.) The particular cloth diaper I was dealing with was exceedingly gross. I had rinsed it with our toilet sprayer and was trying to get to the trash can quickly in order to avoid… drippage. Eew. Sorry. Anyway, I caught my sweet, innocent baby toe on the corner of the bed. After cussing only once, but rather loudly, I proceeded to scold Miles for moving the bed as if it was his fault, not mine, that I tripped over it: “This is why Mommy says not to move your bed!” I realized in the midst of my lecture what an ass I was being. It is the same amount ass I am when Scott and I argue, and I pull out every imaginable trick in the book in order to WIN, WIN, WIN. Scott: this is my public apology. But if you ever bring it up, I will probably start to cry and remind you how overworked I am so you can’t blame me.
4. Not Closing Cabinets.
5. Not Properly Squeezing the Toothpaste from the End.
6. Refusing to Floss. (Stupid dentist. Stop asking me this!)
There are more, but that’s all I’ve got energy for at this particular moment.
On a related note, I don’t think mothers with children should have to return their shopping carts. I declare that Single Men’s Work and urge all single men to buck up and realize how little they have to carry to and from their cars and help a mother out. It’s your responsibility, in a civilized society, to return EVEN CARTS THAT ARE NOT YOURS, because there are other people in the world who are raising the next generation while you’re going to the grocery store because you ran out of Doritos. It’s the least you can do.