Momís Years Of Mondayís
"Whirr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r." The fan provides the white noise to muffle the sounds that otherwise keep us from sleeping.
"M-E-E-O-W." I hear the cat cry while I prepare my coffee at the break of day. "M-E-E-OWW," I hear again, as I stumble over the gray fur ball while I rush to the bathroom.
"Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep," I rush to turn the alarm off before the children hear it, afraid of jeopardizing a few moments of peace.
"DRIPKSSSS-DRIPKSSSSS-DRIPLSSS," the coffee speaks to me as it is purged through the machine.
"M-E-O-O-W." I hear CAT, his pleas are desperate now and I attempt to get his food out of the refrigerator. I turn the radio on. The subtle static annoys me while I fine-tune it for the calming message I want and need to hear.
"H-M-M-M-M-M, H-M-M-M-M-M" the refrigerator motor roars. "M-E-E-O-O-W," CAT quickly remind me of my intent and what is important at this time.
It is hard to choose from the numerous cans of half eaten cat food, left in the refrigerator. How long they have been there? I think what a waste of money, as I stack a few cans on the table vowing to do better about that in the future.
I canít stand this mess, looking at the table. I pick up the empty potato chip bag, but lay it back down on the table. I close the refrigerator door while I pick up the peanut butter jar. I knock the glass of iced tea off of the table. Its sticky contents splatter on CAT.
"M-E-E-R-0-R-R-W." Iím reminded of my earlier intention. I feed the cat and stroke his damp fur with a towel that I grab near by saying, "Iím sorry CAT, you know me." I give the towel a toss, hoping it hits the wet mess on the floor and sops the spilled tea for me.
"DRIPSSS-DRIPKSSS-DRPKSSSSKUG." I glance to the coffee and see the brown color, and I smile. Iím grateful that I put coffee in the filter this time. I briefly reflect on the numerous times that I have sat waiting for my morning brew only to discover that I had failed to add the ground coffee beans. I had a light murky liquid not fit to drink.
I fix a cup of coffee and sit down for a few moments of devotion, but I feel uneasy from the clutter that is around me. Not giving much thought, I throw away the cat food cans I had previously stacked on the table. I shove the school announcement flyers (vowing to look at them later,) car keys, school notebooks, bag of snack crackers, unopened mail, hair clasp, empty potato chip bag, bread wrapper tie, pen, scissors, etc. away from me. I begin to feel a little frustrated because things just donít seem to get put where they belong, What can I do different, I ask myself? I say the Serenity Prayer and add a few words of my own.
"SWEWESWEET-STWEET-TWEET," a sparrowís song reminds me that God will provide and His peace returns to me.
Where are my glasses? I briefly look over the scattered things of the table. Not seeing them, I look in the living room chair ---I believe I put them on last night. I look around the living room but I canít find them.
"RRRREEEGGHH-RCHUGEEEKCHUNKKINK." I hear the trash truck as it stops further down my street. It passed by my house because I failed to get the trash out to the curb, the night before. I vow to write a note so I will remember it next week.
"RING-RING-RING." I rush to answer my phone because I donít want it to wake up the children. While visiting on the phone with my mother Iím asked what I have to do today. I donít know what to tell her, so I look nearby for my appointment book, but I donít see it. Where could it be? I ponder for a brief time. It should be in my purse but I see that my purse is not where it is supposed to be. I make another vow to myself.
"VROOOOOOM, VROOOOOM, VROOOOOM," the vehicles passing by my house scream at me.
"AR-R-R-R-F, AR-R-R-R-F, AR-R-R-R-F, AR-R-R-R-F," A neighbors dog chases something.
My thoughts are scattered as I try to carry on a conversation with my Mother. I see the housecleaning I need to do and think about that while desperately trying to recall what is on my agenda for the day. Where is my appointment book? I know there is someplace I have to go today. I start feeling a little panic.
I question myself whether Iíve written anything in the book. Or whether it was written for the right time or on the right day. Or if it is unimportant enough I could miss it today.
I hanging up the phone, I glance up at the clock and see the time. The foul-fiend called ADHD has not devoured all of my time. Iím thankful that I still have a few minutes to relax with a cup of coffee and time for reflections with God. Where are my glasses? I remember my first attempts to find them earlier and I chuckle to myself. Iím thankful that I stumbled on the truth a few years ago, and tell Him. The discovery that Iím not stupid or crazy, fills me with comfort.
"HMMMMMMMMM," "SSTWEET - TWEET- TWEET,"
The noises compete for my attention. But I set my mind on finding my glasses. I say the word "glasses" over and over, quietly to myself, to insure my focus. I look in every room and not finding them, sit down in the kitchen and have another cup of coffee. Maybe this time I can finish it before it cools.
I studiously, but erratic, peer around the kitchen. I have to find my glasses! I think of how difficult it would be if I had to go a day without reading. Humbly, I realize how grateful I need to be that my eyes are not worse.
I look around the room for any object big enough to lay my glasses on. I know we can find anything--- anywhere in my home. I smile remembering some of my daughterís incidences. I have found a bag of carrots in the cereal cabinet, a dry cereal box in the refrigerator, and too many other misplaced items to recall now.
I chuckle out loud when I think of the time she once, not intending too, sprayed a nasal spray into her mouth. We laughed about that one for quite a while. My chuckles turn into a smile as I become lightheartedly amused with the notion that we still do.
"AH-HAH!" I say out-loud, with relief. My glasses are on the bunch of bananas. I guess I lay down there when I was getting my coffee canister down from the shelf, having to move the sugar canister first. I canít recall. I vow to myself at that someday soon I will take the time to organize my shelves.
I re-read several scriptures from the Bible and He somewhat merges my thoughts to prepare me to function more civilized throughout the rest of the day. Knowing that God loves me and He will fix my messes relieves me of worry.
"R-R-I-N-G-R-I-N-G." The phone screams at me to bring me back to this world. My aunt calls to ask if I will take her on a few errands today. Knowing that she wouldnít ask me to do it unless it was very important, I tell her yes. Oh no! I remember that I never found my schedule book-or-my purse! I tell her I will call her back because it is time to get the children out of bed. I put time for myself on hold while I assist the children with getting ready for school.
I try not to do too much for them, but IĎve learned that time is not a friend for them either. Our capricious energy causes confusion, frustration, and laughter. Pieces of yesterday and concerns for today infringe upon my tranquility, but I make it successfully through our early morning.
I hug my daughter good-bye, and remind her to do her best and that I love her. I turn around and see my purse on the pile of clothes on the dryer.
"YEAH!" I shout, like a child finding his favorite toy under the Christmas tree. My joy is shortly stifled because my schedule book is not in my purse. I recall having it last night but--- seeing my folded clothes on the drier, I pick up the stack, intent on putting them away before my children rummage through them in the morning. I have to make more room for these clothes, I think to myself as I attempt to organize the overstuffed drawer. Giving up. I vow to my self I will do it another day and I cram them in the drawers with no particular designation.
"R-I-N-G-R-I-N-G." My aunt calls and I agree too pick her up in about 30 minutes. After I hang up the phone I remember that Iím still not sure of what my schedule is. I shouldíve told her that I needed at least 45 minutes to get ready. I donít recall that I have trouble with time management until it is too late.
I look for clothes to put on and not finding anything I want hanging in my closet, I check the dryer. "Sure enough," I whisper. The wet denim reminds me that I didnít turn the dryer on last night. I do that now. I feel a little disappointed that my clothes will get dry in time for me to wear any of them today. The mood does not last long.
"V-R-R-O-O-O-M," "A-R-R-R-R-F," "M-E-O-W,"
While my bath is running I see the stack of dirty clothes on top of the clothes hamper. I remember that my daughter really needs something in particular cleaned. I start sorting the various colors of laundry and throw them in piles on the floor. Frequently, I have to stoop to retrieve something and redirect it to the appropriate pile. I take the clothes to the washer but find it full of wet clothes. Tossing down the dirty ones that Iíve carried, I remember my bath water and what was my intention. Tripping over the cat, I hurry to the bathroom. I remember a few times that Iíve been distracted and water flowed everywhere and I can't help but laugh out loud.
I prepare to be socially acceptable. I actually decided what to wear, without too much difficulty. I rip the tags from the neck of my shirt, while wondering how these slipped by me. I am thrilled, because while I look for my hairbrush I find my schedule book. Almost fearing to see what is planned for the day, I decide to look in the book later. I have to find my hairbrush. I check to see if I put on deodorant. However, I do put the book into my purse, patting myself on the back for being "responsible." I find my hairbrush, much to my amazement. We loose several brushes a year.
I glance at the clock; feeling like this morning has already been going for so long. Seeing the time, though Iíve looked at the clock numerous times already, I realize that I have to rush. Grabbing my purse, I say bye to CAT. I peek into my schedule book as I walk to the car. I donít have anything written for today and I choose to be glad, instead of worrying about a mistake I mightíve made.
"VR-R-O-O-O-M." "BUZZZZZZZZZZ." "ARFARFARFARF."
When I get into the car I cannot find my keys. I remember them being among the mess on the table. I start to damn myself for not putting them in my purse, but I remember that I didnít know where my purse was. I also remember that I have ADHD. And aside from that, I was looking for my glasses. I climb into the house through my sons unlocked window, retrieve my keys. I say the Serenity Prayer.
The foul-fiend canít spoil my time with my aunt. We laugh at the many streets I turn on without wanting to. Our conversation is full of digression and laughter. I did take a list of items that I needed to get at the grocery store, but I forgot to look at it. On the way home, I found the note in shirt pocket. We laughed the rest of the way to her house.
Iím ready for some quiet time alone, so I refuse her invitation for lunch and return home. I want to take a nap, or just rest my mind. Iíve found that usually when I want to take a nap-I canít and when I can-I donít want to.
I decide instead to put a couple hot dogs in the microwave for my lunch. I sigh, with a tired smile.
In the microwave I find a cold cup of leftover coffee. One that I had intended to drink this morning, while I waited for the fresh pot to brew. I donít know if it was ever heated, and I do not really care. Knowing that the near future holds enough things to concern me, I replace the cup with the hot-dogs.
"WH-I-R-R-R-Tick-WH-I-R-R-R-tick-WH-I-R-R-R-tickÖ" acts like a pulled blind on my purpose and I smile with thoughts of the challenging possibilities. After all, I know that Iím not stupid, or crazy. I just have Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.
Standing in my fog, Iím puzzled that right now Iím even all right with those things that are not okay! I softly exclaim, "H-m-m-m-m-m," then forget those notions.
"R-I-N-G-R-I-N-G," "M-E-E-O-W," I hear as I stumble over the cat on the way to answer the phone.
I take a slow, deep breath while I think, here I go again. My energy is restored and my adventure, which is known by most as "afternoon", begins with a smile.
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