As I surveyed the house today, I realized that there are a lot of little things that I have neglected to do in the last few months.  They’re just little things, small enough to go unnoticed by the untrained, unthinking eye, but big enough to cause me issue when I see them.

Normally I am somewhat of an obsessive person—the one who always is thinking about 18 things at once.  I also believe myself to be a capable person, I mean, I manage to keep four kids and two dogs alive, clean and fed on a regular basis, but there are some things that I just can’t do.

1)                  I can’t mail things.  At this moment there are 15  “Thank You” cards, signed addressed and stamped sitting in the kitchen ready to be mailed…from Christmas.

2)                  I can’t go to the bank. I am currently using a bank account that is running on fumes, but am still driving around day after day with not one, but three checks waiting to make me less stressed about money, I just can’t drive the extra block or so and deposit them.

3)                  I can’t get gas in a timely manner.  This particular problem has gotten so bad that my older kids know when the fuel gage is running to low (the pesky thing just has to be digital and directly in their line of vision) and they scream and yell for me to stop and get gas when it reaches single digits.  For the record, we have yet to completely run out of gas, but when we do, you’ll see me on the side of the road, trying to herd four kids to the nearest gas station while they yell “You should’ve just gotten gas!”

4)                  I hate making phone calls.  I have lists of people that I should call for a multitude of reasons, but each call takes such a preamble of self-talk, that I often run out of quiet time to make the call and instead opt to see if they’ll catch up with the times and get email accessible.

5)                  I can’t put clothes away.  There are currently three baskets of laundry (both folded and not) waiting to be distributed in the basement, but I can’t bring myself to put them away.  This is partially reasonable, though (at least I tell myself).  They stay neater in the basket.  Once they enter the kid’s drawers, there is a cosmic force that causes them to scatter all over the floor until they are deemed dirty and washed again.  I chalk this one up to practicality.

6)                  I can’t keep track of “little things” like drivers licenses and check cards…I always have them stuffed in some pocket somewhere and am just too busy and important (or scatterbrained) to keep track of them.  They always turn up somewhere safe, though.  The real problem here is that my beloved husband might have a stroke if they continue to turn up missing from him pondering, “WHY DON’T YOU PUT THEM WHERE THEY GO?!” whatever.

I guess my point in sharing this is to assure people that I really do have good intentions…I just lack follow through.  I’d like to blame these flaws on the nature of motherhood but, in truth, these have been my faults for as long as I remember.

So, family members and friends generous enough to present us with gifts, we do appreciate you!  Know that your thank you notes are written within days of the event (by the children, no less) and that we are not blatantly ignoring you!

And to all the others that are slighted by my selective blond moments? I’ll leave you with my clever phrase that has annoyed many a person close to me, but is true to my heart:

Love me, love my flakiness.  It can be a rather endearing quality if you ignore all the irritation it causes...