I don't know...it seems important but mostly it just seems like I don't have the choice to slack off there even if I wanted to sit in my bathrobe all day and stream Supernatural on Netflix. I mean, they notice when you don't feed them, or answer their 9 millionth question about zombies, or look up from your game of Candy Crush every five minutes to see "the greatest part" of some Lego movie.
At any rate, I have to give myself a break. My expectations of myself are a little too lofty at times. Particularly at this time in my life. I have to remind myself that I may not write that novel over the next long weekend. The jury is out if I'll even brush my teeth. Oh I'll have good intentions. But then, like, lunch rolls around. And why am I the only one in my house that will eat a handful of wheat thins and call it a meal?
What is up with the foodies in my house?
So it's time to do the unthinkable. I'm dummying down my bucket list. Gone are the mountains to summit and the planes to jump out of (yep, so those were never on my bucket list). Enter in the more reasonable goals. Goals that match this particular time in my life. Here we go. Let's start off easy.
1. Finish this blog post...it's been 3 month for crying out loud (as I type, I'm two short minutes from accomplishing this...I already feel like a winner.)
2. Make at least one member of my family (preferably a child) finish their entire prescription - I'm not gonna lie...I'm perpetually 90% on this one, but can I just say that Amoxicillin is freaking annoying. Keep it in the fridge? I never remember to put that stuff back in the fridge. So realistically, is it poisonous if it sits on the counter? No longer active? No seriously...I need to know this.
3. Remember to put the Amoxicillin back in the fridge.
4. Buy and change lightbulbs. - Honestly this is Everest-level impossible, but I can't accomplish all of my goals at one time...I will work up to this one. Perhaps, I will employ a Sherpa to help.
5. When it is determined the pen you are holding doesn't write...throw it away. STOP. RACHEL. Do not put that pen back in the drawer. It will just irritate you the next time you go to write something down (like the fact that you need to buy lightbulbs).
6. Put the Advil in a spot designated for Advil, then remember that spot. There is always a frantic search accompanied by angry ranting when a headache sets in. You can ask Andy. Side note - this is another excellent job for the Sherpa I'm going to hire. He can hold the Advil. Done.
7. Overuse ellipses...done...I rock.
8. Be a grown up, Rachel and change out your table decor. - So my grandmother not only had every day dishes and fine china, she had Christmas and Thanksgiving dishes that she rotated in and out seasonally. I have two sets of day dishes that are all mixed together and I am so short on forks and drinking glasses that I have made my family drink out of travel mugs and tonic glasses when company is over. I do, however, have sixteen martini glasses.
9. Find more friends who exclusively drink martinis.
10. Remember that you don't have to be climbing mountains to be accomplishing great things. Raising children is a marathon. A wonderfully overwhelming, exhausting, but fulfilling marathon. Your children don't see your shortcomings. They see their mother. Loving. Nurturing. Strong. They watch your treatment of others. They listen to your words of wisdom and humble prayers to God (I mean, hopefully, if they can still hear, given the fact that they never finished their antibiotics for an ear infection...ever). They love you unconditionally and think, despite all the failures you see in yourself so plainly, that you are perfect and doing a great job. And if you have trouble remembering #10...just look at their faces. That should say it all.
|Blurry but I love the laughter!|