How To Get “To Do” Done

“You ready for tomorrow?  Back to school, yes?”

My sister-in-law, Kim, instant messaged me tonight.

Me:  Hahahahaha!  Nope, not ready.  Yes, they’re going back to school.  Maybe naked and with no supplies.

Kim:  BUT they’ll be there, ready to collect their perfect attendance awards.

Me:  Their first day of school photos might be a little awkward.

Kim:  Priorities.  Yours are solid.

Everyone needs someone in her life who will lift her up.

I had a list of things to do today.

It went like this:

  1. Get kids’ clothes & school supplies organizated.  (FYI, I know that organizated isn’t a word.  I don’t think organizated is cute or funny.  Organizated is a typo.  I got distracted by my teenager asking me for nail polish remover just now, and, when I looked back at the computer, “organized” had morphed into “organizated.”  This is indicative of the rest of the day.  Guess how my list is going to turn out?  Welcome to my home, Foreshadowing.)
  2. Clean the downstairs.
  3. Bathe the children.
  4. Exercise.
  5. Be nice.

I failed at #5 before I got out of bed.

I’m pretty sure it’s not my fault, though.  See, Greg got out of bed before me, and, ladies and gentlemen, he decided to clean up.  The GALL.

Yesterday, after a touch of whining about how very, very long we’ve been out of lightbulbs (2 weeks, 1 lamp… and I think I may have said something about how demoralizing it is to raise children in a dark cave), Greg went to the store and bought a replacement.  Then, because he’s no dummy, he bought several more lightbulbs to have on hand.

This morning, whilst I was still a’bed, Greg put away the lightbulbs.  And, I’m not sure really how to tell you this without kicking #5 while it’s already down, but, folks, Greg crinkled the plastic bag. And he was right outside our bedroom. And he did it over and over and over again. And, I might have, just a tiny bit, lost my poo.

Which makes me think of this afternoon when I mildly suggested that my teen not lose her poo.  I told her that she should, if necessary, smoosh all her poo together into one cohesive ball.  Then I mentioned that she might tie it with a bow.  And sprinkle glitter on it.  And really, seriously, NOT LOSE IT, because I’m not sure how you explain losing a ball of ribbon-wrapped, glittery poo, and I don’t want to find out.

I’m thinking Greg could’ve given a similar speech to another female in our household this morning.  Nevertheless, and as I’ve already mentioned, Greg’s no dummy.

The great thing about failing early in the day is that I got to scratch an entire “to do” item right off of my list.  Bye bye, Be Nice!  I’ll put you back on tomorrow’s list, and we’ll see how well we get along.

The rest of the list?

Everything’s crossed off.  Every. Single. Thing.

Some of them, I even did!

But, most importantly, I ROCK that cross-off pen.  Does that count as exercise?  Oh, yes.  Yes, I think it does.

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