Saturday, July 14, 2012

Futility, thy name is Mama.

Why do I do this?
Re-attach the Little People plastic silo to the barn every night.

Think I’m going to remember which stack of clothes in the drawer belongs to which size. What I should do, is just have a “too small” drawer, sort it every time it gets full, and box the clothes by size. The trouble is that last step—I sort it, think, “I’m sure a box will come along before I need to put this stack away.” It doesn’t. Back in the drawer! Re-sort! Re-sort is SO different from resort. Though, it is oddly soothing.

Save EOBs for more than a year. Am I going to be nostalgic for how much Blue Shield covered for the audiologist? Am I going to be tested on this?

Think that someday, “Cookie” magazine will send me more alphabet stickers, and I can finish labeling the binders that look like “I__B_L” and “J_M__”.

Balance my toothbrush on top of stacked men’s razors in the medical cabinet. It will always fall down into the sink when I open the cabinet the next morning. In my defense, the toothbrush cup also often mysteriously falls down, but onto the floor.

Give the "Band-Aid lecture" about how Band-Aids are for when there's blood (a little simplified, I know), and then worry that the constant stream of hurts are actually intentional attempts to draw blood in order to acquire the coveted Band-Aids. Just give them the Band-Aids already. Accept that they are small child body art, and that they must be placed in the exact, invisible location of the deadly injury caused by stepping on a single unpopped popcorn kernel.

Think, at the grocery store, that there is enough milk at home and that I don’t have to get another gallon.
Similarly, think: “We have eggs, don’t we?” The answer is always, “Yes, we have ONE egg. In a closed egg carton that looks optimistically full.” Also, by the time you get home, someone will have added it to pancake mix that doesn’t require eggs. He will also replace the empty egg carton, closed, in the fridge. You will discover this halfway through making chocolate chip cookies.

Thank goodness I’ve stopped:
Stacking the Ikea children's plates in rainbow order

Ditto with the Ikea children's cups

Keeping the HIPAA forms. You can tell a veteran hospital mom because she takes it, says “thanks”, and then gives it back with some deprecatory remark about shelves full of medical binders. Because you do have to take it, but you can also give it back. :)